


Borrow My Hubby

by colepaldigirl



Series: Borrow My Hubby [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Doctor Who RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-20 02:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7387714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colepaldigirl/pseuds/colepaldigirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenna is feeling more and more like a trophy girlfriend on a night out with Richard, when she receives a text from the Capaldis. But the dinner invitation turns out to be something she didn't expect. It would seem a man like Peter knows how to treat a woman right and is happy to demonstrate. A weekend together is arranged with everyone's approval but things between Peter and Jenna grow more and more difficult and by Monday everyone's heart could be broken.</p><p>This didn't get as silly as I thought; major angst instead. No offense to anyone, its all fictional AU style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A note on RPF: This is a Real Person Fiction and a lot of people feel uncomfortable reading these. I can completely understand that and if it’s not for you please feel free to skip it.
> 
> My view of RPF is that because I don’t know the people involved I can’t possibly know what they are like in real life. My portrayal of them will therefore be totally inaccurate, so inaccurate it’s probably laughable to anyone who knows them. They are about as fictional as any other character I might write with any other name. RPF just happens to contain characters with the same names as my heroes and some vague descriptors eg Jenna and Peter look like Jenna and Peter, they star in a show called Doctor Who. There may also be some reference to real life events, like a particular episode filmed. 
> 
> The things I make them do or say however are entirely imaginative and would never happen in real life. I intend no offense whatsoever to anyone mentioned by name in these fics or to their families. Its fantasy only. The safest thing, as I say, is not to read them if you think they might bother you, just like I don't read certain fics myself.

Why had she agreed to this? Jenna stood close to Richard while a bank of photographers took pictures of them. Of _him_. His latest foray into Hollywood was premiering and he looked just the part. Handsome. Dark. Tall-ish. She supposed she should be impressed by how well he scrubbed up, given that she was used to seeing him unshaven and lounging about in the same tracksuit bottoms all weekend, but somehow Jenna couldn’t see past those images. He was a _bona fide_ slob and it had always bothered her, especially when he could make the effort for the press but never for her.

One of the paparazzi asked her to step aside so he could just take a snap of the star himself. She graciously did so but internally grumbled. How dare they push her to one side? She was a successful actress in her own right; she had made a serious effort, little black dress, crazily high heels, spanx. _Spanx_! She was so uncomfortable she could hardly breathe. Or stand, or walk thanks to those shoes. And now she wasn’t even in the pictures. Her temper bubbled. This was going to be a long night. The pre-film drinks, the movie itself, the after party. She’d be hanging around until the small hours being secondary to Richard’s career. Again. Was it any wonder they were forever splitting up?

Richard often made her feel like a trophy girlfriend and she was just about at the end of her tether with it. Whereas she made an effort for him, for their relationship, he did nothing. The romance was dead, the dates had dried up. He only ever called when he wanted her to hang off his arm and attract attention. She was worth so much more than that, and she’d told him so when he had asked her to go with him tonight. She’d warned that if she got so much of a whiff of ‘token girlfriend,’ she was going her own direction. It wasn’t so much a whiff as an entire cloud.

Jenna loitered at the edge of the red carpet while he posed, and checked her phone. She was seriously considering going through with her threat of leaving him if he didn’t stop fluffing his ego soon. He had another couple of minutes and then she would be out of there; she was past caring if it looked bad, she didn’t see why she should keep sacrificing herself for him when he gave her nothing in return.

She looked up and found him chatting to the press, cameras flashing. Someone had a microphone in his face and he was regaling them with some story from the set of Game of Thrones. The bulk of the formal photography had finished and he hadn’t even come to collect her as his guest, couldn’t even be bothered with her on his arm now the snaps were taken for this week’s glossies. Jenna glared at him across the carpet but he deliberately kept his gaze averted.

Fine. So be it.

She looked back down at the phone intending to call a cab, and found a text message from Elaine.

_Dinner at ours at 8? We’d love to see you, seems like ages. E &P_

Well at least someone wanted her company. Jenna called the cab.

 

XXXXX

 

‘Um… I wasn’t really expecting you to dress up?’ Peter said as he opened the door. He was wearing tight black trousers and a shirt that was not only fitted but had the best pattern on it, stars of the cosmos, galaxies and comets. Why didn’t Richard have his sense of style?

‘Sorry, I just threw it on, first thing that came to hand, designer dress, bedroom’s full of them they get everywhere. You know what its like living the high life,’ she said bitterly.

He raised his eyebrows dramatically. ‘Right, well you look lovely but it’s a bit formal for dinner at ours.’

Jenna laughed, ‘Let’s just say I had a prior engagement but then you made me a better offer,’ she said brushing past him.

‘I’m the better offer?’ Peter said, ‘Things must be bad.’

‘They’ve been better,’ she agreed as she sat down, ‘I need alcohol, have you got any?’

Again he looked at her oddly, ‘What have you done with Jenna? You don’t hit the booze that easily.’

‘Jenna’s fine but she needs a glass of wine,’ she said waving at Elaine as she came through from the kitchen. ‘I’m having a rubbish evening.’

Elaine joined her on the couch, ‘She is,’ she confirmed. ‘Richard is being… well I can’t think of a word I can say amongst polite company.’

Jenna turned to her puzzled, ‘What? How do you know?’

‘Friend of mine texted, Elaine said, ‘They happen to be at the premiere and they spotted you; they were going to say hi, but then noticed the er… tension between you as he once again made you come second to his own ego. That and well… he’s often being a bit of a prick isn’t he? I thought I’d rescue you.’

‘Thanks.’ Jenna sighed and accepted the glass of white wine Peter offered her. ‘So it comes to this,’ she said, ‘Richard so obviously doesn’t care about me that total strangers are noticing and alerting my friends. It really is the bitter end.’

Elaine stroked her hand, ‘You looked like a woman who has made a decision,’ she said.

‘Yes…’ Jenna sighed, ‘I hate that he’s made me do that, but it’s just not working. Four years. What a waste.’

‘It wasn’t all that bad,’ Peter interjected from across the room. ‘I remember you being loved up… now and then.’

‘No, some of it was OK… but just OK… I just was never… oh that just sounds selfish in my head.’

‘What does?’ Elaine asked.

‘I just wanted to mean…to be… it doesn’t matter,’ she finished, fighting back any wayward feelings. She began draining her wine.

‘You wanted to be everything to him,’ Elaine said softly, ‘The centre of his world, and you never were?’

That was enough for Jenna. She was already miserable and angry at Richard. She felt let down and invisible and like it had all been a total waste of time and emotion. She tried hard to hold the tears back but Elaine had put her arm around her and was just being so kind. Kindness was her undoing.

‘Sorry…’ she sobbed, ‘It’s just not how I pictured it finishing... I mean I didn’t picture it finishing but this is… I don’t even matter, he probably hasn’t even noticed I’ve left.’

‘You deserve better,’ Elaine said. Out of the corner of her eye Jenna saw Elaine signal at Peter, a slight cock of her head and he moved to sit on the other side of her as Jenna cried. ‘You deserve someone who makes you feel like you described, like you are everything to them.’

Jenna wiped her eyes with a tissue Peter offered. She had to admit Elaine had him well trained. Tissues, wine, his arm around her back steadying her and stroking her side. Now and then he reached up to her hair, a calming stroke down through the waves she had fought to put into her style that night. It felt so good. He was so gentle.

‘This has been the longest most significant relationship I’ve had,’ Jenna said, ‘I thought this was it and now I see its full of mistakes and its lacking half the things a good relationship needs. I’m just confused now. If I meet anyone else in the future I won’t know what’s to be expected and what’s asking too much. I mean do I ask too much? Is that why Richard’s always in a mood, why I’m always too critical?’

Elaine squeezed her hand, ‘Shh, shh, you’re not too critical. There _are_ standards you know and he doesn’t meet them.’

‘Maybe I just…’

‘He really _doesn’t_ ,’ Elaine said firmly.

Jenna sniffed and despondently looked into her glass. She was dimly aware of Peter and Elaine communicating something between them over her head. Finally Peter said ‘What?’ in an alarmed half whisper.

‘Why not?’ Elaine said, dropping the secrecy. ‘We have a wonderful relationship, it’s the perfect example of what to expect as a minimum. Why not demonstrate?’

Jenna flicked her eyes up, ‘Sorry?’

‘I’m just saying,’ Elaine said, ‘There are some things you have to expect in a relationship, some basics that make it work and it would be good for you to see those, have something to compare to.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Jenna said, ‘Well yes you two are like the ultimate in relationship goals. You’re both so lucky, I can see that.’

‘But you haven’t experienced that,’ Elaine said.

‘I guess I’m not that lucky,’ Jenna wiped her eyes again.

‘Well maybe we should facilitate that a little,’ Elaine continued.

‘Know any perfect men I can hook up with?’ Jenna said a little sarcastically.

‘Yes…. Peter,’ she nodded towards her husband.

Jenna laughed and was met with silence. She turned and looked at Elaine, whose mischievous face expressed more than words could. Concern, kindness, a sense of fun and if she wasn’t mistaken a challenge. ‘Um… what are you saying?’ Jenna asked.

‘I’m saying,’ Elaine said impishly, ‘Why don’t you borrow my hubby for a couple of days and see exactly how you should be treated by a man.

‘That’s… that’s ridiculous!’ she laughed, ‘Borrow my hubby!’ she turned to Peter who was suddenly looking embarrassed, his head down and a decidedly pink tinge to his cheeks. ‘Peter?’

‘It’s fine Jenna, I’m sorry… it’s….’

‘He’s just being coy,’ Elaine said. He’s always had a bit of a fantasy about you so now the suggestion is out there he’s mortified with me. But why _not_ just put it out there. You want someone to show you how you should be treated and he wants to treat you…’

Jenna gawped at her and then looked back at Peter who still wasn’t making eye contact. He shifted uncomfortably in the seat.

‘When you say a fantasy?’ she asked.

‘A sexual one, yes, I mean he’s a man, and you’re very pretty so it was inevitable, I’ve long got used to it. I mean if I were that way inclined I’d probably fancy you too, and we’re all human, right?’ Elaine clarified and Jenna watched Peter hide his face in his hands with a groan. She couldn’t help but laugh. ‘It would be up to you of course, if he earned it… and if _you_ fancy _him_ of course, he might be a bit past it for a young lady like yourself…’

Peter shot his wife a deeply offended look and she burst out laughing. ‘Relax. He’s not… you know, past it. Not in any way at all,’ she confirmed in Jenna’s ear.

‘This is…How can you even suggest this? I mean… What about you?’ Jenna said.

‘You have my permission,’ Elaine winked, ‘Just this once,’

Jenna looked between the two of them and in particular at Peter’s awkward posture. She felt a bit sorry for him, he’d obviously been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

‘Why don’t you two have a chat and I will check dinner,’ Elaine said. ‘See how you feel about it when I’m out the room.’ She patted her husband’s knee.

‘Wait, Elaine!’ Peter half rose but she had skipped out the door quicker than she usually would, and left him alone with Jenna. He sat down again looking like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him. Jenna looked around the room wondering how to address the problem. He was one of her best mates, there was no doubt this was awkward. She looked over at him again and felt hysteria rising. There was a long silence during which Peter cradled his head in his hands and Jenna tried not to giggle.

‘Elaine’s amazing,’ she said at last, ‘I mean what an idea.’

‘I’m so, so sorry,’ Peter moaned, ‘Sometimes she’s just a little too bohemian for words. She’s very… easy come easy go with people she trusts.’

‘She trusts me to borrow her husband? That’s more than just a bit trusting. And bizarre, its bizarre too, I mean apart from you know what, what else do I need to ‘experience?’’

Peter opened his hands a little and peered through them. ‘Oh you know, she probably means day to day things like being brought breakfast, or run a bath. Having doors opened for you. Flowers. All those little things that make a woman feel loved and special.’

Jenna stared at him, ‘You do that stuff all the time don’t you?’ she asked suddenly feeling sad for herself, ‘I can’t remember the last time Richard opened a door.’

‘It should work both ways. She does it for me too, not the door thing, but when I get back at the weekend. I mean I still have to do the various chores that keep my ego grounded but I also get my breakfast made and… well… other things.’ He blushed again.

Jenna snorted. ‘You’re so embarrassed. You’re a grown man you can talk about sex’

‘Shut up. You’re half my age, you don’t want to hear about sex from me. Its like discussing it with your dad. I should be ashamed of myself.’

Jenna pursed her lips. ‘Do you really think about me like that?’ she asked coquettishly.

‘Oh God,’ he moaned and hid his burning face again. ‘Fine, yes, yes I do. Is it such a surprise? You’re beautiful, Jenna, and a wonderful person and…’

‘And like she said, you’re male,’ Jenna laughed.

‘Have I offended you horribly?’ he asked suddenly aghast, ‘Jenna you know I’d never put you in a situation you were uncomfortable with.’

She took his arm and looked at him in the eye. ‘Calm down, I trust you. I love you to bits and if I’m honest with myself… you’re not unattractive…’

‘I’m not unattractive?’ he laughed, ‘Is that the best I get? Marvellous.’

‘Well I’m not going to dive straight in and stroke your ego this early on?’

‘No leave the stroking for later…’ they both started giggling, ‘Wait… wait does this mean you want to do this?’ Peter asked. ‘I mean you don’t need to answer about the sex, let’s just leave that out, but the other stuff, the relationship bit?’ he suddenly looked terribly serious, ‘It’d be an honour,’ he said. ‘To look after you for a weekend, to show you how you should be treated.’

Jenna composed herself and contemplated his face. Oh Peter, kind, warm, funny Peter. She could do a lot worse than spend the next couple of days with him. He could be just the tonic she needed. ‘Yeah, OK,’ she said, ‘Let’s do it, let’s get married.’


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh no is that angst I spy? Maybe just a smidgeon. Peter prepares for Jenna's visit.

He could see Elaine watching him out of the corner of his eye, a distinctly amused expression on her face. She was tucked up in bed with a book on her lap and her glasses perched on the end of her nose; and she was smirking. He rummaged through the wardrobe attempting to look casual as he picked out clothes for the next day. He heard an odd kind of snuffling snorting sound. Finally, with a sigh Peter turned around to face her.

‘Alright, what?’ he asked, watching his wife press her hand over her mouth in a vain attempt not to dissolve. She giggled instead, swallowed the laughter and removed her specs.

‘Nothing, nothing at all.’

‘Elaine, you’ve been killing yourself laughing all evening, just come out with it.’ He waved a black polka dot shirt on a hanger in her direction.

‘With what?’ she looked innocent. ‘I like that shirt by the way, suits you, makes you look quite toned.’

He huffed and put it back in the wardrobe feeling surprisingly sullen for a grown up, but he couldn’t help it. ‘You think this whole thing is hilarious,’ he challenged.

‘No, not the whole thing, just you, this evening…. Well mainly this evening, actually this week in general.’

Peter tilted his head and gave her a disbelieving stare. ‘What about this week?’

‘Well you’ve been… how can I put it? Anticipating?’ she grinned, ‘And tonight you’ve been bouncing around the house… _singing_. You’re like a kid before Christmas, and its Christmas Eve.’

‘Shut up,’ he turned away again to remove his robe hoping she hadn’t caught his smile. It was exactly like Christmas Eve. The butterflies and expectation of what the morning would bring. He didn’t think he could cope with the next twelve hours waiting. ‘Anyway aren’t I allowed to just sing? It’s not that bad. I can be quite tuneful.’

‘Yes, dear,’ she placated.

Elaine pulled the covers back for him and invited him into bed. He slipped between the sheets dressed in T-shirt and boxers and cuddled her close. They lay for a moment in a tangle of familiar arms and legs, swapping warmth and comfort. He could feel his heart racing a little faster than usual and his palms felt unusually sweaty. Something was building up inside him which he’d worried about on and off since they decided to do this. He was scared to let it out but he had to.

‘Does it bother you?’ Peter asked after a while, confidence draining from his voice, ‘Because if you are having second thoughts we just won’t do it.’ He rushed out the sentence in the half hope she might not hear.

Elaine squinted up at him from her position on his shoulder. ‘No way… uh-uh just no. It’ll be good for Jenna and good for you.’

‘But… are you sure? Most people would not be OK with this. Why are you OK?’

‘I suggested it you moron. Pretty stupid to suggest something I’m not OK with. Are you OK is what I’m wondering? Honestly?’

He hesitated. ‘I am as long as you are,’ he hedged, ‘What you feel about it is the important thing, I’d never want to hurt you…’

‘You aren’t hurting me,’ Elaine reassured, ‘And it’s OK to be excited,’ she whispered.

‘I.. its not … I…’ he stammered.

‘Oh come on, you absolutely adore her and here’s the perfect excuse to lavish attention on her and treat her the way she deserves,’ Elaine sat up a little, ‘And for you to get a little attention?’ she said playfully, ‘That’s OK too.’

He blushed but smiled at her encouragement. ‘Ok,’ he said quietly.

‘Enjoy it,’ Elaine said, ‘I know it means more to you than you’re letting on, I’m not an idiot Peter, I see how angry you get when Richard comes into the equation, and rightly so if you ask me. I know where that protectiveness comes from.’

Peter felt his jaw tense, ‘Yeah well he doesn’t know how lucky he is.’

‘Not anymore, she’s made her decision I’m almost certain of it; and now she needs some healing time, and you can give her that. You’re gentle and you respect her and you make her laugh. I could go on. You’ll be therapeutic…’

‘Thanks you make me sound like a therapy dog,’ there was a pause while Peter chewed his lip, ‘Um.. Elaine?’

She rubbed his stomach through his shirt and he automatically breathed in to hide it.

‘What?’ she asked, prodding him until his tummy reappeared. ‘Silly man.’

‘I just wanted to check, I mean it’s one thing treating her nicely, going for a meal, running her a bath, all that attentive loving stuff but… er… exactly how far does this stretch?’ he could barely get the words out he felt so awkward. ‘I just want to double check the rules before this starts,’ he explained, ‘Make sure I heard you right the other night.’

Elaine sat up straight, ‘Why? Are you going to sleep with her? Do you want to?’ she asked horror-struck. Peter flushed and started babbling a denial when Elaine dissolved into giggles again. ‘Peter, there wouldn’t be much point in showing her how good a relationship can be if you left the best bit out.’

‘So…’

‘So what do you think?’

‘I just need you to say it,’ he said plaintively, ‘Please just… make it officially OK or I’ll never live with the guilt and I’ll chicken out and Jenna … well God knows what she’ll think… or what she’s expecting. I mean she can’t really expect that? I don’t think she sees me that way, the most I get as a compliment is I’m ‘not unattractive.’

‘You’re an idiot,’ Elaine said drily. ‘An idiot with ridiculously low self-esteem. Why do you never think anyone fancies you?’

‘Because they don’t?’

‘I do,’ she said smugly.

Peter rolled his eyes and watched as she lay down on the pillows and folded her hands on her midriff. ‘Doesn’t count,’ he said and started chewing his thumb instead of his lip. Elaine removed his hand from his mouth and squeezed it.

‘Will you calm down?’ she said. ‘You have carte blanche this weekend. Just relax. See where things go, it might not get to that, then again it might, but chill out for god’s sake.’

She reached over and turned out the light. Peter listened to her settle in on her side of the bed and then lay staring at the dark ceiling for a while. Jenna was coming over tomorrow. Elaine had arranged to spend the weekend at a spa with some girlfriends and Peter would be at home. With his old co-star. Pretending to be a couple.

This was insane.

He put his hands over his face and closed his eyes. Just what was he playing at? Jenna would arrive and it would be so awkward. Maybe she wouldn’t arrive at all, maybe she’d just text him first thing and call the whole ridiculous thing off. She’d been upset when she agreed, and perhaps seeking some revenge on Richard, maybe things had settled down again. He hadn’t really heard from her since they agreed the date of the Pretend Marriage. Was she laying awake panicking like he was? They were pretty similar people she could well be doing exactly the same thing. Was she looking forward to it?

He was. He felt silly, but he was. Elaine had been right he’d been humming and singing and probably skipping round the house for days. He’d happily sorted the washing, cooked, and performed his various chores without complaint. He’d attended functions dressed in Paul Smith and signings in Oxford Street, and the launch of the DVD with a permanent smile and a benevolent attitude even greater than the one he usually held for his fans. He’d gone to some extraordinary lengths to make things special for them, ignoring his sore back and tired feet, because he felt, well, a bit high.

The kind of high you feel as a teenager when your first crush waves hello, or deigns to speak to you in the corridor at school, or when you think of your first kiss. The kind that makes your heart leap when you think of that person. He felt energised and excited and he just couldn’t wait for the days and weeks to pass. He tried to act cool, not text too often, not sign off with too many kisses, something he’d learned from her in the first place. He tried to ignore the fact he was acting like a prat and that he was fifty-eight not fourteen, but then the image of Jenna would come into his mind and he’d be off again.

What was wrong with him? He watched the headlights of a car track across the ceiling of the bedroom and tried to close his eyes and drift. There she was again, in his head. Dressed as he had seen her at some do or other on TV. He was almost one hundred percent certain Elaine had deliberately left that channel on so he could see her in that deep brown satin dress. It seemed that no she was no longer in the classic family show that was _Doctor Who_ she could wear things which were much more risqué. Christ. That neckline. The skin it revealed looked unbelievably soft. He ached to touch, just this once. The more he realised he had permission the more he fantasised about the possibilities, and then he felt ashamed. This was his friend. His _friend_. She would be horrified if she knew what he was thinking. Maybe. Thank God thoughts didn’t broadcast.

He opened his eyes again, none of this was going to help him sleep. Sheep, he should count sheep. Or something equally uninteresting and un-arousing. He should stop thinking about it at all, because above all else he aimed to show Jenna what it was to be treated like a lady, by a gentleman. He aimed to be the antithesis of Richard and open her eyes. Because the thing with Jenna, the thing that was more important than physical attraction and silly fantasy, the thing he knew but rarely if ever admitted to himself was that he did love her; in his own, limited by circumstances, way.

He felt himself relax a little when he realised that, and realised the importance of the weekend. Clever Elaine. As always. It wasn’t a silly game; it was a window onto the sort of life Jenna should have with someone, with Peter demonstrating, because who better to do that convincingly than a man who loved her to begin with?

He settled back into the pillows feeling easier. If Peter could make Jenna happy he would; if he could make her feel like a queen for a weekend he’d happily do everything possible. He loved to please; his wife, his fans, his friends, and he wanted to please Jenna so much. He’d never be thirty years younger, he’d never be available to give her the life she deserved; but he wanted to show her. Just a taste, just an example of the kind of love she was worthy of, that they might have had together, in another life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekend begins... and Jenna realises a few things

 

Jenna stepped out of the black cab and swapped a twenty pound note for the bag the driver had retrieved from the boot. ‘Thanks,’ she said, adjusting her grip, ‘Could you….’ She looked up as the engine started and stared in disbelief as the cabbie drove off. ‘Help me up the stairs?’ she finished. Well fine she didn’t need a man to haul luggage up to Peter’s house she was perfectly capable of doing it herself, after all she regularly went to the gym, it was just that it had been a really long day and she was tired and…

…she felt the weight lift from her hand and turned to find him standing beside her, holding her case.

‘Hi,’ Peter smiled and she giggled.

‘Is this part of the ‘pretend husband’ service?’ she asked, ‘You don’t normally carry my bags.’

‘You don’t normally let me; I do try sometimes. Anyway when we go places together I have my own bags and I’m too much of a weakling to do both,’ he nodded up the stairs, ‘Ladies first.’ He bowed and gestured ahead with one arm.

Jenna rolled her eyes, ‘Oh this is going to be fun… weird… but fun,’ she started up the steps while he followed a pace behind, ‘Anyway how did you get out here so quickly? Were you watching at the window for me?’

They entered the hall and Peter swung the door closed, depositing the case by an old fashioned telephone table which always reminded her of her granny. Good start, household items that reminded her of elderly relatives. How was this ever going to work as a demonstration of romance? Peter was and had been her friend for three years. They larked about and told bad jokes and did terrible impressions and silly voices and were basically comfortable around one another and now there was something different in the air. Now they were ‘a couple.’

‘What’s wrong with waiting at the window?’ Peter asked askance.

‘Well it’s a bit… needy?’ she guessed, ‘Yeah needy. I mena do you really do that? Guys don’t linger about waiting for girls to come home, that’s just embarrassing. They veg on the couch and barely acknowledge your existence once you’re back.’

Peter looked slightly hurt and Jenna felt a stab of guilt. Maybe he genuinely did wait like a puppy dog at the window for Elaine to come home? Maybe he jumped all over her with his tail wagging when the door opened all happy howls and slobber…. No, stop that thought that’s just strange.

‘You see this is why we’re doing this,’ Peter explained and led her to the living room. ‘Why is it embarrassing to wait for your loved one? To be excited to see them and welcome them home?’

Jenna plonked herself down on the couch in an unladylike move that amused her friend. ‘You get excited to see Elaine don’t you? Like every time she comes home or you get back from Wales?’ she left out the slobbering dog image.

He sat next to her and dangled his hands between his knees, and looked at her like she was mad, or dim, maybe both, ‘Um… let me think… yes I do,’ he said, ‘Every single time, of course I do, Jenna.’

She smiled, ‘That’s sweet. But for the greater majority of us, unachievable.’

‘Is it?’ he queried, eyebrows raising. ‘Why?’

Jenna looked at him open mouthed for a second, didn’t he see that most of the world just didn’t work that way? ‘Well…it’s not practical is it, viable I mean, people… society… it’s all different these days… relationships…they… it…’

Peter pursed his lips, ‘See no good reason. It’s perfectly achievable if you put your mind… or more accurately your heart into it. You have to hang onto that excitement, that feeling you get in the first few months when you can’t wait to get home and see them.’

Jenna looked down at her hands, ‘Yeah it’s a long time since I felt anything like that.’ She could feel him watching her profile and the sadness she could feel leeching into her face.

‘Sorry,’ Peter rubbed her knee gently, ‘Bit early for theories about love.’

‘No, no… that’s why I’m here after all,’ Jenna looked up. ‘I just sometimes look at you and Elaine and wish…’

‘Wish?’ he looked an odd mixture of curious and frightened.

‘Wish I was as lucky as you.’

Peter squeezed her leg where his hand still rested, long fingers, warm palm. He smiled and then looked at her earnestly, all wide blue eyes and over expressive eyebrows, ‘I am lucky, yes, to feel like that every day, but for the next seventy-two hours I promise I will try and make you feel that way too, the way I get to feel every time I come home, and the way I hope Elaine feels.’

He looked so desperate to please that Jenna laughed, ‘OK, so… where do we start?’

‘Oo... well I don’t know. Are you hungry?’

‘Yes! I wasn’t going to bother you but I’ve been on this photoshoot all day and I’m starved. People look at you disapprovingly if you suggest a lunch break. Or calories of any form.’

‘Right,’ Peter pushed himself up from his knees and sprang into action. ‘Calories it is. You want to come through while I make it or chill out here?’

Jenna immediately stood, ‘I’m coming through. I want to moan about my day and drink wine.’

‘I think we can arrange both those things,’ he grinned and stood looking down into her upturned face. ‘I forget how tiny you are,’ he said quietly. ‘You need your box.’

‘Boxless these days, they like me tiny on _Victoria…._ Oh wait!’ she held up one finger, ‘I can be even tinier… and more comfortable, without these heels.’ She reached down and removed her shoes one by one, sinking before him by a good four inches. Peter snorted with laughter and slipped his arms round her.

‘Bless!’ he said, leaning his chin on top of her head and rubbing her back. ‘Don’t you look sweet?’

‘Shut up!’

He pulled back and looked into her eyes, ‘Nope, not this weekend, there will be no shutting up. You will be forced to hear both compliments and declarations of adoration,’ he stroked her hair, ‘For the purposes of this weekend, I’m in love with you remember?’

Jenna suddenly felt something in her chest tighten as she looked at him. For a moment she wasn’t sure what it could be, or what she was seeing. She still felt comfortable in his arms but something had shifted when he had said those words, something which made them seem so real. She had thought it was all a fun game, thought he saw it largely the same way and she’d made a decision to only approach it as such, an excuse to spend time with her best mate, a whole weekend. These things were rare when they were both working, separate now, miles apart. The added bonus of realising what was possible in a relationship was just that, an added bonus. But then there was that tight feeling and that look.

He’d spotted it, her hesitation, her question painted all over her features. His smile wavered and the depth of his pupils pulsed and gave him away. A wave of anxiety passed over his face but it still couldn’t mask the fundamental emotion. The green blue mix of his irises that practically glowed when he was happy, so different from the greys his eyes sometimes reflected. He looked at her and his pupils dilated, his hands resting gently on her back, and she suddenly knew. This wasn’t just a game.

She felt him draw a deep breath against her body. Then he pulled himself away and headed to the kitchen with a casual ‘come on then,’ and a smile, but for a moment she was frozen. Jenna knew they were close, ridiculously close and knew they had remained that way even after her departure from the show, but she had almost deliberately never examined things further. The end of the series had nearly killed them, the tears shed in their trailers were disproportionate for two colleagues and their divergent careers. They couldn’t look closely at the significance. They daren’t. Peter was married, she was with Richard and life was very complicated. They were friends, end of. Denial was a perfect option.

She followed him into the kitchen diner and took a seat at the table, watching him open wine and bring her a glass, watching it slosh out of the bottle with a satisfying gloop, before he raised his own in a mock toast to their ‘marriage’ that weekend. She found herself playing along, fascinated, looking around the kitchen and trying to imagine it was hers, watching him turn his back as he prepared food on the far counter, the movement of his shoulders and hips. She wondered what it would be like if he was hers too.

She suddenly realised she had butterflies for even thinking that; understood that she’d wondered that for a long time. Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth as she tried to regain her cool. Peter was saying something in the kitchen.

‘So tell me about your day, you wanted to moan?’ he said as he worked. Jenna snapped back into reality, and then realised reality at the moment was this living fantasy which had suddenly got more complex.

‘I’d much rather watch you chop onions,’ she teased. Teasing him was safe, they did it all the time.

He turned and frowned at her, ‘You want me to start crying? Jenna you are evil.’

She laughed. ‘Do you want a hand?’

‘No, I’ve started now and anyway your mascara might run.’

‘Oh Ok then I’ll just leave you to weep over dinner,’ she paused, ‘Do you cook a lot? I mean who does most of it?’

‘We split it,’ Peter wiped his cheeks with the sleeve of his polka dot shirt, ‘or it depends who is around. I’m away a lot these days but I did my share in the naughties.’

‘Oh?’ she sipped her wine, looked at it, decided to drink it quicker.

Peter sniffed, the onions causing mayhem with his tear ducts and nose. ‘Yes well I wasn’t working, Elaine was, so I had Cissy. I did most of the cooking and domestic stuff then.’

Jenna grinned, ‘Are you a domestic goddess then?’

He laughed, then sniffed and wiped his eyes again. Jenna sighed dramatically and slipped out of her chair to grab some tissues from a box on the table. She stepped up behind him and turned him on the spot. Peter looked down at her red eyed, cheeks wet and the tip of his nose rather pink. She pouted in sympathy.

‘Oh poor you,’ she wheedled and started to dab his face..

‘See how dedicated I am?’ he said, ‘See the pain I go through to make your dinner?’

She giggled and carried on mopping up the evidence of onion fumes. She could actually smell them from behind him and it made her own eyes sting. ‘They are strong!’ she commented. ‘What else can you do? Housework? Sewing?’

He plucked the tissues from her hand and kissed her palm before returning it to her. ‘Oh I have many husbandly skills,’ he assured her and blew his nose.

Jenna snorted. ‘Was that supposed to be alluring? Because the snot…’ she pointed to his face and pulled a disgusted expression.

‘Shut up! Go and drink your wine,’ Peter supressed his laughter and scrapped the onions into the hot frying pan. ‘I need to focus on the food…’

Jenna stepped back to the table and eased herself under it. She still felt slightly nervous of her feelings. She toyed with her wine glass, drained and refilled it and kept going until she felt fuzzy and warm. The illusion was easier then and it lured her into wanting to believe all of it was hers. The warmth of the kitchen, the smell of cooking, the sound of things frying and bubbling. Steam rising from pots and pans, Peter moving around, stirring, draining, seasoning. She watched as his shoulders relaxed and he became more at ease.

And then he stopped what he was doing and wandered over; topped up her glass and bent to kiss her forehead.

‘Five minutes,’ he said, ‘And then I’m all yours….’ He hesitated, stricken, ‘Which sounds a lot more egotistical than I meant it to but really I just meant we can eat and talk…’

‘Shut up!’ she batted him, ‘I know what you meant.’ She caught his eye and they both seemed to freeze. He looked at her curiously and then withdrew to his cooking. Jenna took a steadying breath and tried to slow her heart.

She knew that he knew she’d seen it. The look in his eyes. He knew she knew what it meant. She suspected it had been there a long time, since the first meal they shared three years ago, since they both chose an omelette in a restaurant and laughed over it. He had been so charming, so funny and she’d taken an instant liking to this silly man she would be working with so closely. She remembered being relieved. And she remembered thinking to herself that if the storyline asked for romance, it wouldn’t be hard to do. It didn’t matter about his age or silver hair, there was something in the lines of his face that spoke of nothing but kindness, something in his eyes that was ageless, what people called a beautiful soul. He was the kind of man who was easy to get on with and easy to love.

Jenna watched him dish up the food and set it down in front of them both. He sat and raised his glass again to her. This time she chose the toast.

‘To love,’ she said, and watched him hesitate for a second.

‘To love,’ he replied.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what exactly is this weekend really about? It isn't just pancakes, its angst too.

Peter was glad for wine and food and later on music and telly for all the distractions they provided. He didn’t dare think about what he thought he had seen, about the way the pair of them froze just before their toast, about the toast itself and the words Jenna had chosen. They had both realised and then they had both run, and that was fine. If he thought about it, he gave it significance, and that lead to problems. Problems complicated things, made things awkward, ruined friendships and put strains on marriages. He was racing in the opposite direction from that, that had to be the right thing to do. So instead of dissecting the problem of _being in love,_ he filed his concerns and insights in the back of his mind and returned to the job in hand.

Showing Jenna what it was to _feel_ loved. Showing her how she should be _treated._ He could do that with his eyes shut, without getting into complex emotional responses. He’d so often thought of little ways to treat her, and sometimes gone through with it, the flowers on special dates, the little thoughtful gifts he gave. He could put on quite the show of perfect husband for her today.

So it was that he found himself in the kitchen preparing breakfast after a fitful night’s rest. Jenna was ensconced in the spare room, sleeping off her relentless week. That, he remembered had been awkward too as he had brought her upstairs, tired and slightly tipsy, and showed her, her, quite separate, room. He took her case in, pointed out fresh towels and various toiletries she might need and asked if there was anything at all she wanted before bed?’

Jenna looked at him a bit wide eyed. ‘Um… you see this whole ‘pretend you’re a couple vibe?’

‘Uh-uh,’ he stepped closer and looked down at her.

‘Doesn’t that mean you’ll be staying?’ she glanced at the bed, ‘Here?’

Peter chewed his lower lip and felt himself flush, ‘Well, um… it depends really, I mean technically we’ve only been ‘together’ for a couple of hours.’

Jenna had snorted, ‘I’m moving too fast aren’t I? God it’s all coming out wrong, you’ll be thinking I’m a complete lush, propositioning you on night one,’ she looked apologetic and he shook his head at her.

‘Don’t be silly,’ he said.

Reassured, she’d looked at him with her huge dark eyes and smiled apparently more relaxed. ‘But if you wanted to, you know, _stay_ …’ she said.

He’d stared back at her stunned.

‘I don’t mean…!’’ she flapped suddenly, ‘I just mean for company, a cuddle… something innocent after a long day.’

Peter’s breath had rushed from him in relief. He certainly didn’t feel ready or prepared for _that_. That was something he would have trouble with separating love and pretend love. He popped his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. ‘Go to bed, Jenna, sleep. You don’t want me there snoring away next to you, you’re tired. Maybe tomorrow, yes?’

Something passed over her face briefly but she hid it with dimples and her rapid reply. ‘Okie dokie, right night, night then.’ She put her arms round his waist and her head on her chest, squeezed him hard and then just sort of stayed there. He thought he had held her a little too long, unwilling to quite let go, but she didn’t seem to mind. And so after a minute or so they parted and went their separate ways, just like they usually did when she stayed there, except with the new realisation that more was now possible, if it wasn’t so terrifying. Maybe tomorrow.

Peter put on an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt, skipped shaving or trying to tame his hair, and trotted rather merrily downstairs before the clock had even struck half seven. He was increasingly used to early starts for the show that he considered this quite a lie-in and he didn’t want to waste more time. He was nervously excited still and as part of his plan to make Jenna feel special he had bought in a range of top end ingredients. He almost couldn’t wait to get started making breakfast.

Into the kitchen and dishwasher loaded. He smiled as he remembered her amazement at his domesticity. Wasn’t that part of taking care of someone, making sure you could look after aspects of your loved one and your home, letting them know you can shoulder the burden if needed? He wiped down the counter and hummed to himself. Christ if he had a girl like Jenna, if he had _Jenna_ , he’d do this every day if she wanted. This and more. He’d be a house husband if she so desired.

After dinner she had told him a little more about Richard, about his narcissism and his inability to do anything round the house just for starters. Peter suspected there was an awful lot more to be revealed. Richard, was as far as he was concerned the big star, while she was just a girl from Blackpool in a children’s TV show. That bit riled Peter doubly, and she’d laughed at his defence of both her and _Doctor Who,_ before telling him more of the things her ex had said and done. He’d shaken his head in disbelief and leaned back into the couch, one arm over the back of it and the other holding his wine. Jenna curled next to him and told all. After about an hour she seemed to run out of steam.

‘God, I’ve never told anyone all that, not even my girlfriends, or my mum,’ she said, ‘You’ll think I’m pathetic?’ she looked up at him worried.

‘No, no I don’t but… Why did you stick it as long as you did?’ Peter asked, ‘I mean the way you describe him, the way he seemed to regard you, it’s not good enough… putting it mildly’

Jenna shrugged and looked into her chardonnay. ‘It crept up. We’ve been together a while. Neither of us were massively famous to begin with. I mean he was just hitting that in _Game of Thrones_ and it hadn’t affected him yet and I was nobody really, a few bits and bobs here and there. He didn’t feel the need to compete.’

Peter had swigged from his glass and sighed. ‘Men and their egos,’ he muttered and she burst out laughing.

‘You’re a man, don’t you have an ego?’

‘Of course! Just not one quite so fragile. I’ve been in some good stuff but I’ve been in some woefully awful stuff too and I can laugh at myself. And Elaine… well why would I ever feel the need to compete with her? I love her, I support her, I admire what she does. Why come over all bitter because your partner is doing better than you? It’s all swings and roundabouts in this game.’

Again he’d watched as Jenna absorbed this opinion. After a pause she said, ‘Yeah well I’m tired of it. I’m tired of him putting me second, I want to be equal.’

‘Equal and from time to time number one?’

‘Yes!’ Jenna put down her glass and moved closer to him, ‘Come on then, show me how it’s done, show me how to be a functional loving couple,’ she requested and he found himself pulling her down against his chest and cuddling her. He’d just opened his mouth to continue their conversation when he heard her sigh deeply and rub her cheek on his shirt. Peter stroked her arm; let his hand wander to her hair.

‘Thought you wanted to know about couple dynamics?’ he teased.

‘I’m sleepy,’ she said, warm in his embrace. He laughed.

‘OK so no counselling tonight. You know…Well, you could go to…’

Jenna wriggled and adjusted her position, seemed to back herself closer against him, more on his stomach now than his ribs. He didn’t bother breathing in but let her utilise the soft bits if she so desired. She snuggled down and he remembered thinking he really shouldn’t let her settle there too long.

‘Jenna?’ he asked.

‘I don’t want to move from here,’ she muttered, ‘Not ever.’

He let her stay a few more minutes, and a little part of his heart ached, ‘not ever,’ just wasn’t an option.

Now he was flipping pancakes, and that made everyone feel better. He made special ones with faces and some that he considered properly artistic. He’d started with a simple smilie face just to get the batter right and have some flipping practice, but now he was in his element, drawing out daleks in different shades of batter. He dumped the latest on a plate. He supposed he should do a few more romantic designs. Jenna was a girl after all. He smirked.

Peter leaned over the frying pan and carefully piped a rose in chocolate batter, highlighted it with the ordinary mix, and let it cook. Roses! He nipped into the utilities room and found twelve of them he’d been hiding since yesterday and popped one onto the little vase on the table, laid the others to one side for her to find, their stems bound together with ribbon. Then he rescued the pancake.

‘Oh my God!’ Jenna exclaimed from the doorway. She was in her light satin dressing gown and had taken a shower, her hair still wet and a towel in her hands, rubbing the ends. ‘What’s all this?’ she grinned.

‘It’s called breakfast,’ he said as he took the frying pan off the heat and approached her, taking her towel and bidding her turn around while he dried her hair for her.

‘Is breakfast usually so extravagant?’ she asked eyeing the table and its contents as best she could from where she was

‘On a weekend, quite often,’ he admitted. ‘Did you find everything you need upstairs?’

‘Yes…’ she turned in front of him a littl, ‘Peter how did you know?’

‘Know what?’

‘Which shampoo I use, which body wash? ‘

‘I’m observant.’

‘Observant or creepy?’ she teased.

Peter laughed, ‘Just observant, I’ve seen you pack and repack your bag a hundred times, I’ve been in and out your trailer. I know what you prefer and I’ve seen you get annoyed when you run out.’

Jenna nodded seemingly satisfied with this answer, ‘Ok, so you’re observant. Is that a ‘thing’ too?’

‘A thing?’

‘Yeah a couple thing, are you supposed to notice these things?’

‘It helps. Toiletries maybe not so important but perfume and choice in alcohol always win brownie points.’

She giggled and he stopped towelling her hair, let the damp towel drape around her shoulders. ‘Thanks,’ she said.

‘You’re welcome,’ he could feel her against the front of his body, warm from her shower, her hair perfumed and damp and he couldn’t resist the urge to slip his arms around her briefly, knowing that she had always been accepting of that level of affection. What he didn’t expect was her response as he bent to kiss her hair as usual. Jenna tipped her head to one side and instead his lips came into contact with the sensitive skin of her neck, soft, inviting skin. What was meant to be just a peck became a lingering touch and at the last second he fought the urge to swipe the tip of his tongue across her flesh, and lost. She tasted of the natural coconut conditioner she liked so much.

Peter broke contact with her neck and with that space beneath her breasts where his arms had rested and stepped back a little abruptly. He saw Jenna catch her balance; she had been leaning into his embrace then, wanting it, wanting that kiss? Why else would she open her posture to it? He felt his heart leap. This potentially could be just the start. Elaine had given him _carte blanche_. At first he didn’t truly believe he would go that far, didn’t truly think Jenna would for that matter, but now. Now his head was full of possibilities. Now…

Now there was a definite atmosphere. He retreated to the kitchen and watched Jenna sit down, watched how she held herself and how she wore her robe. She usually swaddled it shut primly but today the neckline plunged and the split beneath the tie went far up her legs. She crossed them and he could see her smooth thigh as the material fell away to either side. She was fresh out the shower, still flushed and warm and it gave her an erotic sensual edge. He had always known she was beautiful, sexy even, but it had never been quite so obviously placed in front of him. Was it deliberate? Had she noticed the atmosphere too and decided to go for it, or was it a case of hormones and pheromones dictating behaviour without her consent.

‘Come on then!’ she ordered, ‘Bring me yet more food. Honestly are you trying to fatten me up?’

‘No, I just…’

‘Prefer a girl with curves?’ Jenna teased.

He blushed and set down her pancakes, expertly laid out on the plates with cream and strawberries, the rose pattern beautifully clear on Jenna’s.

‘Oh!’ she exclaimed, ‘Oh Peter that’s beautiful, I had no idea you could do that. It’s a shame to eat it,’

‘Eat it,’ he said, ‘That’s why I made it, for you.’ He brought his own Dalek based pancake to the table and she started giggling.

‘You are so predictable,’ she said leaning over her plate. He looked up to answer but at that moment her robe fell open slightly more and he felt he had no choice but to look away.

‘Um.. Jenna,’ he waved a hand in the direction of her chest.

‘Oh, yikes, I’m falling out of it, sorry, I didn’t bring night clothes I forgot, maybe I can steal a t-shirt?’ he saw her in the corner of his eye closing the material. ‘Wait a minute, why did you tell me?’ she asked.

‘What?’

‘Why didn’t you just cop a good look?’

Peter felt a mixture of amusement and despair. ‘Seriously?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, I wouldn’t have notice and it was all on show. Most men would… ah… wait… this is a thing too isn’t it? Most men would take advantage but you…’

‘I try to be a gentleman,’ he acknowledged, ‘Sometimes its rather difficult.’

‘You are unbelievably sweet and innocent,’ she looked at him adoringly and he rolled his eyes.

‘Um… just because I’m polite doesn’t make me innocent, Jenna.’

‘Oh?’ she asked.

‘I’m not a monk!’

‘I’m not saying you are but you don’t come across as very… I don’t know… overtly…’she waved her fork in the air. ‘Sexual. You’re one of life’s innocents. Polite. Gentle. One on the loveliest guys I’ve ever met. And everyone agrees. You just have to mention sex and you blush… see you’re doing it now. And the idea of anyone fancying you, you object to…it’s just not in your make up. You even said once that you were too old now for sexuality…’

Peter stared at her. ‘Seriously?’ he asked a little offended, ‘You seriously think I’m too sweet ad gentle and _old_ for it?’

Jenna dissolved into fits of laughter. ‘No I don’t believe that… well not all of it. But you are very sweet and I don’t think you’d know if someone liked you if they slapped you round the face, not really; you might sense it but then deny it, but you wouldn’t believe it.’

Peter thought back to the night before and the look they had exchanged.

‘Wouldn’t I?’ he said gravely and the mood switched to something quite serious. Jenna’s smile faded. The kitchen was suddenly powerfully quiet, the odd tick of the cooling pan the only sound other than their breathing. Jenna stared back at him and her cheeks flushed suddenly. He watched as she bit her lip and looked away and he kept watching as she slowly tried to return his gaze again. She was caught, red handed talking about exactly the thing that he had sensed last night. Well maybe it had to be faced after all? Maybe he couldn’t just pretend this weekend when he felt so much? With a stone in his guts he decided to face the unspoken; Peter reached out and covered one of Jenna’s hands with his.

‘Jenna,’ he said, ‘We need to make a decision.’

‘Oh?’ she said rather nervously.

‘Yeah…’ he paused, ‘Do we go through the motions, ‘act the part,’ pretend to do the couple thing… or…?’

‘Or?’

‘Do we do the couple thing? For real?’

She stared at him speechless for a moment.

‘I know what I felt last night Jenna, when we had dinner, I know you spotted it too and then we spent the entire evening trying to ignore it, keeping it light, distracting ourselves. And we can keep doing that, if that’s what you want… we can just hang out and flirt a bit and talk about how shitty Richard has been to you and what to really expect from a boyfriend or,’ he took a breath, ‘I can’t believe I’m going to say this…’

Jenna was so tense he could hear every breath and swallow, but she was hanging on every word.

‘Or I can say, my wife has give me a free pass for this weekend with you, and well you chose to come here too so perhaps deep down we want the same thing.’

‘Peter,’ her voice was timid but she reached out with her free hand and added it to his, squeezed. Her eyes were wide and pleading.

‘Jenna,’ he said, ‘How do you want to spend this weekend?’


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up a bit in the kitchen.

5.

Jenna realised she was leaning forward again over the table and that to some extent he was too, transfixed, waiting on her answer, their hands joined. What to do, which direction to go in? Make believe or a taste of the real thing? Had Elaine really given permission for this? For it to go this far? Well, yes, she had so now it rested on their shoulders to decide.

Peter, for some reason she couldn’t quite grasp, had decided yes. She was dumbfounded. He was the ultimate in married, married men but now his wife had granted permission he seemed to be champing at the bit. The more she spoke with him lately the more she saw of his feelings for her and the more that stimulated her own, prised them out from under the rock she hid them beneath, because he would never be hers. Now he might. For two days anyway. Could she cope with that? Two days and then give him back? Pretend it never happened?

And was any of this right to begin with? Would she regret it and struggle to live with its implications?

She stood suddenly and dropped his hand; looked down into his eyes and watched them turn a darker shade of grey blue in disappointment. He really wanted this, whatever his reasoning. He tried to hide it but his face gave everything away. A face she had grown to know so intimately over the years. A face which let’s face it, she loved, and missed every day.

‘OK,’ she said, before her head could stop her.

‘What?’ he stuttered.

‘I said OK. I want to spend the weekend with you. _Really_ with you. Not pretending but _doing_ , being… experiencing.’ He looked up at her with huge eyes.

‘You want to… you want to take up the offer? All of it… the… free pass thing?’

‘Yes,’ she said certainly. Inside she was shaking and outside too to some extent. She hid her hands behind her and stood awkwardly in front of her friend. ‘Yes,’ she said again, ‘I want us to… be together.’ Peter gawped up at her, flustered. She shut her eyes in frustration and then clutched each side of her head, her damp hair tangling in her fingers. ‘Sod it, Peter, I want to sleep with you… have sex… however you want to term it.’

He raised his eyebrows, ‘For the purposes of this weekend, if we remember those purposes, I would rather you referred to it as ‘making love.’’

‘Right,’ she continued to stand next to his chair, arms dangling. There was utter silence as they looked at one another. ‘Right,’ she said again, ‘Um… what now?’

Peter’s face cracked and he burst out laughing. ‘We try and establish some sort of romantic atmosphere, because really, right now I’m sort of more in shock than I am aroused.’

Jenna rolled her eyes at him, ‘Fine, you want romantic, we can do romantic, push your chair out.’

He obeyed and sat before her, looking up as she straightened her robe and edged around him. She experimentally tried an angle to sit from and then stood straight again, turning and considering putting her arm around his neck. Peter sighed and grabbed her waist, pulling her down onto her lap. Jenna squealed.

‘Sorry, be here all day otherwise,’ he said. She glared at him but with no real intent and he grinned a grin that lit up his whole face. Jenna giggled and shifted until she was comfortable.

‘You’re bony,’ she said.

‘Oi!’

‘Though if I’m honest I have always liked your thighs.’ He raised his eyebrows again. ‘Strong,’ she said.

‘I’m getting some real home truths here aren’t I?’ he said.

Jenna felt herself blush and scolded herself. What was the matter with her, it was only Peter! She’d shared so much time, so many secrets with this man and now she was on his knee she was losing the plot. She felt his arms tighten round her waist and chanced a glance at him. He seemed to be drinking in her every feature.

‘Am I too heavy?’ she checked, and he pulled a face. ‘Alright not too heavy, are you comfortable? Nothing’s digging in?’

‘I’m fine, relax.’

‘This is weird.’

‘Thanks,’ he said and the drew back a little to see her better, ‘You want to get off?’

Jenna’s turned to raise her eyebrows.

‘I don’t mean _that_ ,’ he said, ‘I mean hav]

e you decided against sitting here?’

‘No, I just…’ she huffed, ‘This is so silly, it’s just you.’

‘Again, thank you.’

‘I thought maybe we could…’

He waited, encouraging her with his expression. ‘We could…?’ he echoed.

‘Well we have to start somewhere so maybe we can, you know… kiss?’

His smile twitched back but his cheeks flushed again and he looked down into her lap where her free hand rested. Gently he toyed with her fingers.

‘Unless you didn’t want to,’ she added super quickly. Peter cleared his throat and appeared to be seeking strength from within.

‘You’re right,’ he said, ‘This is weird.’ Jenna giggled.

‘Let’s do it,’ she said.

‘What if you hate it?’

‘I won’t.’

‘You’re too polite to say, you mean.’

‘Shut up!’ Jenna admonished and brought her hand up to nestle in his hair. She was unbelievably close to him, much closer than she thought she’d ever really been before. She could see every coloured fleck in his eyes, every movement of his iris. She could feel every breath on her skin and how rapidly it was coming. She inched until her chest pressed against his and felt his heart hammering through their thin clothes.

‘You are so nervous,’ she noted.

‘Yes… this surprises you? I have a beautiful girl on my lap who I am terrified of letting down.’

‘You won’t let me down,’ she reassured.

‘I could be a terrible kisser,’ he said, ‘Elaine’s just been forced to adapt to it.’

Jenna laughed at that one, ‘Well why don’t you let me be the judge?’ she said and she suddenly felt herself fill with confidence. Was this part of what he was talking about when he spoke of relationships? Was he somehow making her feel better, stronger, more confident in herself and her abilities without her even really noticing how? Because right now she was starting to feel like this kiss was the most important thing in the world, and through it and him, she was too.

They watched each other’s lips for a minute, trying to line themselves up, trying to fit and both ended up giggling and embarrassed. Ultimately though trust won out and defeated awkward. Jenna laughed freely; it was so odd, so different that for those minutes they were at a sort of loss as to how to proceed, how to break the barrier between friends and lovers, but she knew they’d manage eventually, and she set the ball in motion.

Jenna tipped her head and watched him mirror her so that their bodies would fit together better; he shut his eyes and she became aware of how vulnerable he was to her now. He had more or less confessed how much he felt for her, laid open his heart, and yet here he was, sitting in the kitchen of his marital home, kissing her when really he could be hurt, or lose everything, depending what she chose to do. She realised something then; she wouldn’t let that happen. This was their weekend. Together. Jenna closed the gap gently let their lips meet.

She was struck by the rush of breath he gave out when they touched and the soft grunt of pleasure, like he’d been holding himself still and desperate for her. Then his arms moved up her back, stroked down to her hips and held her close. He kissed passionately, deeply and with real need, like he’d drown without her, like he’d waited years. His fingers twirled through her hair and tugged while she could feel his other hand pressed against her thigh, rubbing in short strokes.

Jenna felt arousal rush straight from that spot on her thigh up towards her sex in moments. She shifted and turned towards him as much as she could, wishing she had the ability to straddle him from there, but the chair wouldn’t allow it. She pushed herself flush against him and copied his moves; hands in his untamed hair, kisses deep and needy, his stubble scratching against her and adding to the frisson. She panted for breath, broke away slightly and then kissed over his face briefly before he reclaimed her.

‘Jesus, Jenna,’ he gasped, and moved his lips to her neck, ‘Uh…’ the noise sent a shiver of pleasure through her and again she shifted, anything to get closer, feel him moving against her. Her eyes flew open as she held his head to her neck. He was hard, she could feel him pressed against her hip as she perched on his lap. Peter, her friend, was hard and wanting beneath her.

‘Oh God,’ she whispered, ‘Peter… you’re…’

He halted suddenly, leaning back and his cheeks absolutely ablaze with shame. He tried to wriggle so that he wouldn’t be pressing against her body with anything he shouldn’t be.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, ‘Sorry… getting a bit carried away.’

Jenna stared at him like he was a revelation, she had no idea it would feel like this, that she would find it all so good, so natural. ‘Honestly, not a problem,’ she said. He risked looking at her.

‘Jenna, that was our first kiss, I’m supposed to work up to the rest not molest you in the first five minutes. You don’t necessarily want bits of me… intruding… yet,’ he stopped, ‘Or at all! We’re still at the exploratory stage.’

‘Most men would just take me upstairs to be honest,’ she said.

‘Yes well most men need to learn a bit of respect.’

‘What if I take _you_ upstairs instead is that ok?’ she asked playfully. Peter continued to look mortified. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I appreciate your respect Peter; I promise but… we only have one weekend. Time’s short.’

He shook his head with a sad smile. ‘Oh Jenna, I’m just old fashioned,’ he confessed. ‘As much as I want to rip your clothes off, I also don’t want to rip your clothes off. I want it to be special.’

Jenna looked at him with sympathy ad a fair bit of curiosity too. ‘You really mean that don’t you? Like if I dragged you up there, part of you would actually be a bit upset?’

‘Yes…’ he confessed awkwardly.

Jenna kissed his nose, ‘You’re very sweet. Strange, but sweet.’

‘Oh no, not that again,’ he protested, ‘I _can_ do sexy, I just…’ he sighed, ‘I just want to do this right. I know we’re on borrowed time here but, let me at least make a day of it for you, take you out, spoil you, wine and dine you, the usual… and then we can… you know…. if you still want to.’

Jenna cocked her head and squinted at him. ‘You genuinely do this stuff don’t you? As routine? Romance? Respect? Days out?’

He nodded, ‘Yes and that sort of the point of this isn’t it? If I just take you upstairs I’m no better than any of them, the Richards of the world, I need to show you what you can expect if you find the right person, how good it can be, how special you can feel.’

She could almost cry at his sincerity. Jenna kissed him softly again and squeezed her arms around him.

‘OK,’ she said, ‘So do I get to pick where we go, what we do?’

‘Sure, but remember there are cameras out there….’

‘Somewhere innocent then,’ she said, ‘Like… like the zoo!’

‘What!?’ he looked at her like she’d gone mad.

But she had an idea in her head now. ‘That’s where I want to go. To the zoo. With our cameras. And then food… and then…’

‘And then,’ he finished and smiled. ‘Thank you.’

‘What for?’

‘Understanding what it means to me,’ he said quietly, and hesitated a moment before he said, ‘It’s not just you I want to make it special for.’

‘I…’ Jenna paused and looked at him, avoiding her gaze, fiddling with the edge of her robe, a pink tinge still to his flustered embarrassed cheeks. She felt her heart swell with emotion at that moment, swell and then sink, suddenly sure that what he felt, what it ‘meant to him,’ could not be parcelled up neatly and returned at the end of the weekend; suddenly sure it was love.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Jenna are making a day of it, and a trip to the Zoo brings back memories for Peter.

Peter dumped the plates in the sink and gathered the mixing bowl and frying pan. He allowed the accusatory kitchen surfaces a basic clean and then stood by the sink checking the weather out of the window. Autumnal, not raining, not freezing but potentially slightly chill. He had sent Jenna upstairs to get dressed and wondered what she had brought with her. Would she be warm enough? Did she have appropriate shoes? He caught himself pondering if he had a jumper he could lend her and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

‘God, when did I get so old and stuffy?’ he asked himself out loud.

‘Been like that since I’ve known you, _old man_ ,’ Jenna practically skipped into the room and grabbed him from behind before he could turn. He felt her head rest on his back and her arms squeeze his middle.

‘Old and stuffy? Seriously?’ he squeaked.

‘Nah, not seriously. You’re younger inside than most people my age. You’re like the Duracell Bunny sometimes too, you just keep going while everyone else has collapsed knackered.’

‘Thank you,’ he smiled.

‘The Duracell thing could be fun…And you’re definitely not stuffy; I mean you still read comics and you earn your living by pretending to be a super hero…’ she said as he laughed, ‘Why were you thinking you’re old past it and anyway?’

‘I didn’t think I was past it! Cheeky!’ Peter turned towards her without really breaking her embrace. ‘Anyway no reason,’ he said, ‘Are you ready?’ He eyed her jumper and craned his neck to get a look at her shoes. Jenna looked down as well and then back at him puzzled.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘Nothing.’

‘Peter!’

‘OK I was worried you’d be in heels and… you’d be cold. You might not have brought outdoors clothes…’ he trailed off blushing at his ridiculous level of concern. Urgh, he was such a dad these days. That wasn’t sexy.

Jenna squeezed her lips together to contain her laughter. ‘You thought I’d be cold…or that I wouldn’t want to go outside?’ she raised her eyebrows teasingly, ‘Were you counting on us being inside all weekend. Inside doing _inside_ things?’

‘No!’ he answered horrified.

Her laugh burst out of her at last.

‘I… I genuinely didn’t want you to be cold!’ he explained, removing her from him and busying himself with finding his coat and camera, ‘Or have sore feet. I wasn’t… ‘

‘It’s OK! I know, I’m just teasing you.’

‘Well don’t,’ he grumbled.

Jenna pulled a face. ‘Don’t be such a diva.’ Peter slipped on his coat and found his flat cap hanging off a hook by the door. ‘Nice hat,’ she added.

‘Hat, coat, multiple scarves, sunglasses; you know me. Incognito.’

‘Doctor Mysterio,’ she said, ‘Not fancying getting recognised then today?’

‘Not today. Today is not for spoiling and whereas it wouldn’t normally be an issue to say hi to a few kids I don’t want people seeing us together more than necessary. Just in case. ’

‘No problem, we have our photography story anyway,’ she opened her bag and pulled out a pair of enormous sunglasses and a hair band. She scraped her hair up roughly and held it in place. ‘Throw me a scarf, anything.’ He chucked her a simple black scarf and she added it to her surprisingly sensible outfit. Clearly she had packed for every outcome. Evidence he realised, she was as clueless and lost about what was going on as he was, she just covered it better.

‘Got your camera?’ he asked.

‘Yep!’ she answered and almost bounced on the spot. Peter tilted his head and regarded her through his Ray Bans.

‘You are genuinely excited aren’t you?’ he asked, rather charmed.

Jenna blushed a little. ‘I love the zoo,’ she said defensively, ‘And I love taking pictures since you taught me to be half good at it; it’s like our thing, I think of you whenever I take some. And now I get to do it with you on a… ‘she glanced at the overcast sky, ‘…not bad day. It’ll be fun. Why shouldn’t I get excited?’

Peter took his Ray Ban’s off and held her gaze. ‘Jenna tell me honestly, of all the many things, the place and activities you’ve been to and done with Richard, tell me when was the last time you felt excited about them?’

She opened her mouth but no words came out and she looked puzzled.

‘Because I see shots of you in magazines; going for coffee, being at a premiere. You never look connected, never mind happy. Forgive me if I am labouring a point here but, you only get one shot at life Jenna. If a man doesn’t give you that buzz, if you don’t look forward to doing things, exploring the world and what’s in it, then it’s probably not worth pursuing. I know you and him probably aren’t together now… but for the future, when you find someone new, bear it in mind.’

He looked at her kindly and hoped she hadn’t taken offence; hoped she didn’t think he was foisting himself on her just because she was excited about the zoo, it wasn’t about what happened this weekend, but quite truthfully about wanting her to be happy. He ignored the little niggle in his stomach when he thought of her with someone new. Shut up. You have one weekend; she has her whole life to get right yet.

‘I… that feeling wore off a long time ago with Richard, if it was ever really there,’ she said.

He nodded, unsurprised, and pushed his sunglasses back up his nose; he turned to the back door to grab his keys.

‘I think it left me completely when I met you,’ he heard her say quietly.

Peter turned back and watched her nonchalantly zip up her bag, but even through the tint of his lenses he could see her cheeks burn.

‘I looked forward to every single day on set with you, to every fan event, to every publicity stunt,’ she said, ‘There’s never a time when I’m not excited to see you.’ Jenna looked back at him, ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘Getting all girly here. I’ll shut up now and we’ll go see some critters.’

His heart ached a little for her. Maybe he should never have made his observation. ‘Jenna it’s OK if you want to talk more…’

She shrugged her shoulders and then appeared to dismiss the idea, her heated face cooling and her usual manner returning. She bounced forward and took his hand. ‘No, not now,’ she said, ‘There’s fun to be had! And we need fun! All this emotional stuff comes from something we can’t change.’

‘Oh?’

‘You’re married. You’ll still be married on Monday. No, point in discussing all this so deeply.’

He hesitated, his heart thudding in his chest. She was technically right and he was feeling something akin to fear. ‘Sure?’ he said weakly.

‘Sure, less talk, more action,’ and she stood on her tiptoes to grab and kiss him. She kissed him so deeply he almost lost all willpower and cancelled the day out. He felt her push her whole body against him and try to encourage him to lift her up. He had a sudden urge to feel her legs wrapped around his hips. With all the strength of mind he could muster he prised her off.

‘Jenna!’ he panted.

‘Sorry… couldn’t resist…right… day out…zoo… gotcha,’ she grinned.

 

 

The wonderful thing about Jenna was that she could be just as childish as him from time to time. Granted he was childish more of the time than her, and she was more likely to be seen looking serenely adult and composed on red carpets. However, she also had been spotted running around car parks chasing monsters, with and without Peter, and hadn’t been to embarrassed or stuck up to do it. It was this side of her Peter was experiencing today. He was a little frazzled but amused.

Jenna was darting about all over the place having decided for some reason that she didn’t want to just do cute and fluffy today but she wanted to look at frogs and amphibians and take close up of their brightly coloured skins and eyes. Photographically he agreed that these made more interesting shots than balls of fur but he hadn’t expected quite the level of joy slash horror she was emitting in the reptile house. He’d lost her a few times already in the naturally busy Saturday crowd.

Eventually he tracked her down, camera around her neck, palms against the tank and nose against the glass trying to peer down under some sort of Frog House to find its inmate.

‘The little git is hiding,’ she said before he’d even opened his mouth.

‘How did you know I was here?’ he asked a little spooked.

Jenna straightened and pointed at the tank. ‘Reflection?’ she said.

‘Oh. Right. I knew that,’ he looked about him and Jenna giggled.

‘I don’t think this one’s coming out,’ she said sadly, ‘Where next?’

‘Your choice.’

‘It’s been my choice all day,’ she frowned.

‘That’s the point of taking you out,’ Peter explained.

‘Well I insist. What’s your favourite? I’m assuming it hasn’t been an amphibian or a snake?’

He laughed, ‘No.’

‘So…?’

‘Well, let me think, I um…’

‘Come on,’ she took both his hands, ‘There must be something?’

Peter glanced around the room but it seemed the bulk of the people there were miraculously more interested in newts than the odd couple in the corner with the sunglasses and scarves. ‘Well when I was a kid we still had Glasgow Zoo, my dad used to take us.’ The memory made him feel warm.

Jenna smiled, ‘And what was your favourite animal?’

‘Well,’ he said elusively, ‘we all had our different favourites. My sister liked the peacocks, my brother the lions, typical boy.’

‘And?’ she pushed.

‘I um… I liked the farmyard.’ He looked at his feet.

Jenna blinked. ‘The farmyard?’

Peter shifted and looked about him again. ‘Yeah, the farmyard. They had quite a collection in it, pigs, geese, sheep. The kids loved it at the time.’

‘Doesn’t sound _that_ exciting I have to say,’ Jenna laughed. He knew she didn’t mean anything by it but it stung him a little.

‘If you’d been brought up in a tenement in sixties Glasgow you might feel differently,’ he said and she fell silent, attentive, not wounded but definitely curious. ‘We didn’t see animals like that, we didn’t equate them with our food or that sort of thing. We didn’t really understand the link between cows and milk when we were wee. Milk just arrived at school or on the doorstep. So to go to that place and see these animals, and then actually get to go into the farmyard and hold them, it was special…’

He checked her response and she was smiling gently, ‘What sort of things did they let you hold?’

‘Oh the usual…baby chickens, lambs, sheepdog puppies. It was so incredible, magical really, I…’ he stopped suddenly aware he was getting rather emotional. He stuffed his overly expressive hands into his coat pockets. ‘It was of its time. Kids now would find it boring I’m sure, but we lived in this huge industrial smog filled city, the contrast was massive. Going there was like something out of a storybook.’

Jenna reached for his hand. ‘I’m not sure they do a farmyard here….’

‘I’m a bit old for it,’ he admitted, ‘I don’t think it would have the same magic.’

‘You don’t fancy the spider exhibit?’

He snorted, the tension going out of him. ‘Er… no not really. I wouldn’t mind the lemurs though?’

‘Oo lemurs! Cute and fluffy! And you can walk around with them. They come right up and look at you. That’s almost as good as holding a baby lamb right?’

He smiled at her apologetically. ‘Yeah, that’ll do nicely.’

Jenna beamed, ‘Great, come on then…’ she pulled him towards the exit.

‘Jenna?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Sorry if I went off on one.’

‘You didn’t you just always think you have, you’ve never once ‘snapped’ at me, not ever, it’s just you’re so gentle all of the time you feel bad if you raise your voice even a little, express an actual negative emotion.’

They exited the amphibians and started heading to the lemurs. ‘You know me so well,’ Peter said as Jenna battled the map.

‘It’s back over towards the Entrance,’ she said looking up and around her. ‘Oo... look!’ she pointed.

‘What?’

‘Ice cream! You love ice cream,’ she said. She looked up at him with big excited eyes and dimples. She was adorable.

‘Whose day out is this?’ he joked, trying not to get too distracted by her beautiful expression.

His plan however failed as Jenna ran her hand down his arm and squeezed it into his pocket to lace her fingers through his. ‘It’s _our_ day out,’ she said, ‘It’s both of us being able to do this together as a couple, just this once. Right? Not just pretending, _doing._ Come on let’s get some ice-cream.’

She pulled him towards a stand dealing in sweet cold treats and he suddenly felt the need to cool down. She was really going for this, heart and soul, for the duration of the weekend. A trip to the zoo was one thing, she could be as enthusiastic as she liked about that, and that enthusiasm could last into dinner and a movie if they had time and energy but then later… later.

He ordered a rich honeycomb ice-cream while Jenna debated her choices, eventually asking for one blob of several flavours. The whole time his mind was whirling. She was excited now, what would she be like later? As the clock ticked around and the hour approached when he had to make the decision about taking her to bed. Would she be as enthusiastic then? Would she back down at the last minute because of the sheer awkward reality, and just how soul destroying would that be?

Jenna was leading them to a quiet nook nearby, with a bench and some trees and space to eat uninterrupted.

Maybe he should start to squash his hopes a little now. If he told himself it wouldn’t happen he couldn’t get disappointed. But then he thought of this morning and how desperately both of them had kissed. She did want this. He wanted this. Oh God it was tonight. In a few hours. His stomach lurched in an aroused yet terrified way he hadn’t felt in years.

‘Peter?’ Jenna said with the tone of someone repeating themselves for the third time.

‘Hmm? Sorry,’ he looked back at her, watched her swirl her tongue around her ice cream. He was transfixed by the action. Dear God.

‘You OK? You look a bit shaky?’

‘I’m fine…’ he looked ahead again.

‘No you aren’t,’ she commented as thought it was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘I am, I just… no really I’m fine,’ he smiled more confidently and then tasted his ice cream, which had been melting slowly as he ruminated. A blob dripped down his scarf and Jenna was on it, lifting it with her fingertip and then from nowhere, transferring it to his nose.

‘Pay attention,’ she said in her best schoolteacher voice. ‘I think you’re worrying, worrying about later?’ He glanced at her anxiously, it must be all over his face, ‘I have loved today so far,’ she said, ‘And I will love the rest of it too, no matter what happens and what we do. So please, stop worrying.’

‘But…’

She leaned forward and kissed his nose, licked the ice cream from it and then pecked it again. Peter flapped his free hand trying to defend himself and giggled, dissolving into laughter as she threatened to close in again.

‘OK, OK, stop it!’ he pleaded. ‘Eat your ice cream before I lose the plot!’

Jenna gradually stopped laughing and settled back into the bench. They ate their desserts in comfortable silence. As he was crunching down the last of his cone he heard Jenna clear her throat and without looking at him say, ‘Peter?’

‘Yes?’ he popped the last bit of cone into his mouth and continued to look ahead.

‘I am just as nervous as you,’ she said, the words simple and bare and honest.

‘Ah.’ He exhaled.

He felt her reach out, her fingers searching his jacket for a moment and then orientating themselves. She took his hand.

‘You still want to…?’ she asked.

His throat felt tight and he coughed slightly, ‘Yes,’ he said hoarsely. ‘You?’

There was silence and it dragged on long enough to make him even more concerned than he already was. He turned and looked at her, found her watching his profile and before he could ask her again she had kissed him, short, sweet and tender and absolutely certain.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is pulling out the stops. He just wants to spoil Jenna.

Fun. Jenna couldn’t remember that last time she’d had so much fun. First at the zoo, which admittedly had its tense moments, and then over dinner. They’d spoken enough, she thought, to realise they were as always on a wavelength, that they both wanted the same thing this weekend, and that they both had a few jitters but it wasn’t going to stop them. After those conclusions she saw Peter relax; hopefully she would too.

They got home in the afternoon and Jenna immediately started getting ready for dinner. She’d been to a whole number of media inspired dos over the last few months but fewer and fewer meals with friends. Richard had stopped dates in restaurants ages ago, claiming they attracted too much attention. It was all food out of boxes now, pizza or reheated Chinese. So much for her glamourous lifestyle.

Tonight however her gentleman companion was pulling out all the stops and it filled her with excitement that tickled in her stomach and made her hands tingle. He wouldn’t say where they were going but he did say she had to dress up. That she told him might be tricky, how dressy did he need? She might have to drop by her house and collect something? Jenna headed to the guest room to check again what she had packed. The light from outside was growing less so she flicked on the overhead spotlight.

‘Oh!’

The dress hung on the wardrobe door to prevent it creasing. Beneath it was a pair of shoes and on the little table nearby a suitable clutch. Jenna stepped a little closer and saw that next to the bag he had laid out some jewellery, simple, classic stones in gold, highlighting the dress, designed to sparkle in her eyes. She was immediately in love with all of it.

‘I hope it’s OK?’ he said from behind her sounding quietly nervous. ‘I figured you might not have anything that formal with you. If you’d rather get a lift back to your place and grab something…?’ he let the question hang in the air as she turned to him.

‘You are kidding, right?’ she said, ‘This is beautiful and perfect, how did you pick it all out?’

‘I um… had some help… I’m not very good at fashion.’

‘But you don’t let that put you off either,’ Jenna said, ‘Most men would give up.’

‘No point taking you somewhere posh to have you feel self-conscious about what you’re wearing,’ he said.

Jenna grinned and looked the outfit over again. ‘I promise I’ll be careful with it,’ she said, ‘Try not to drop my food down the front.’

Peter chuckled, ‘Wouldn’t matter too much if you did,’ he said, ‘It’s all yours to keep when this is over. Call it a memento.’ She turned round again to protest to find he had vanished. ‘We’re leaving at six,’ he called from the hall, ‘Best get ready.’

Jenna tried very hard to contain herself but instead found that she was wandering about the room humming and then in the shower belting out her favourite songs. She realised half way through that she could probably be heard but she didn’t care. She felt oddly free, secure that she wouldn’t be cruelly criticised even if she was off key, it just wasn’t in Peter’s nature. He’d tease but there was never any malevolence in his words. She was safe.

She had stepped out of the shower feeling like she might just be the most beautiful woman on earth. The toiletries he had left for her were her favourite and by the sink she found perfume. By this point she was infectious with giggles. Just what lengths had he gone to? It was getting ridiculous but the most ridiculous thing was how much she was enjoying it. Was this how Elaine felt all the time, special and safe and cherished? Did he leave gifts for her here and there, favourite face creams and scents, a necklace or a bracelet? As she dressed she began to think it was actually possible. That this was what love felt like?

Lucky, lucky woman. Jenna had looked into Elaine’s mirror and applied her evening make up. She could make herself up to be as beautiful as possible and she would still never have what his wife had for longer than these two days. She should make the most of it. Jenna applied her mascara and made her eyes smoky, plumped her lips with gloss. There was a tight thread of adrenaline in her stomach now, and it would tighten and spin over the evening, through the main and dessert. It was pure excitement, pure desire and she had thought of little else all day even while she was laughing and joking, playing at the zoo, daubing Peter’s nose with ice-cream . A little part of her was still scared but most of her was falling, falling into the truth that she had wanted him a long time and this was it. This was it! How could she calm her speeding heart down? She had to keep her cool.

She made it through the meal and Jenna and Peter returned to the house around ten, the night outside dark now, the street lamps lighting the way up the stairs. He kept his hand protectively on the small of her back as she climbed and then opened the front door, letting her enter first. She heard it click shut and then the lights came on, a rustle from behind her as Peter’s coat slipped off his shoulders.

Jenna turned to look at him and swallowed. She couldn’t tell if it was the food, the wine or her nerves making her feel unsettled. She bit her lip and clutched her bag a little awkwardly.

‘You OK?’ Peter asked stepping towards her. He put his hands on her upper arms and rubbed.

‘Yeah… yeah… totally,’ she said rapidly, ‘Fine.’

Peter cocked one eyebrow at her. ‘Really? Because earlier we were both admitting to a bit of stage fright.’

Jenna sagged, ‘Bit nervous, but that’s normal right? The first time a couple… you know. Normal.’

‘I don’t really know, it’s a long time since I was in that situation,’ he said, ‘I think that actually makes me more nervous.’

She laughed softly. ‘What a pair. Um… why don’t we have a glass of wine, sit for a bit, maybe have a bit of a kiss and a cuddle and get in the mood. It feels a bit…’

‘Awkward?’ he asked, leading the way to the front room. ‘Jenna you’re one of my closest friends and we’ve shared so much, but sharing bodies is another thing entirely.’

She giggled and sat down, ‘Give me wine,’ she demanded.

He passed her a glass and sat by her, ‘God if we’re going to need to be inebriated to do this maybe we should think again. I never drink this much.’

‘Clearly you need a lot of Dutch courage,’ she commented.

‘If it’s any help that’s not because you’re not beautiful, or attractive or… enough somehow.’

‘Thanks!’ she laughed.

Peter shook his head, ‘I can see I’m in one of those moods where everything I say comes out wrong.’

‘Shush its fine. What’s the problem then do you think? Why do you feel awkward?’

‘Why do you?’

‘I want it to go right,’ she guessed, ‘I don’t want to mess things up between us… and I don’t want to end up pining for you, falling in love and then having to walk away.’

Peter looked up at her and stared for a moment. ‘Nothing too heavy then. Christ, Jenna I didn’t expect you to say that.’

Jenna snorted. ‘You’re thinking it too. Might as well be truthful. I’m sure it’ll be fine.’

‘Sounds like it!’ he exclaimed.

‘Just tell me why you’re awkward?’

‘What aside from ‘scared of hurting best friend because she’s fallen in love with me’ and ‘this is really going to hurt come Monday’ these are huge reasons, never mind my marriage, the press, your family, my family, work….’

Jenna’s laughter grew worse, a form of hysteria from anxiety. Peter smirked, ‘Never mind, it’ll be fine, a weekend with me and you won’t be falling in love and that’s the main one.’ I’m a bit of a let down in real life.’

‘How?’

‘Well, you know, I’m… I think the words you used were ‘past it.’

‘I was winding you up!’ She sighed. ‘Is that where the awkward is?’

‘Where?’

‘Are you worried about… you know… how it will go?’

Peter swallowed and looked away briefly. ‘I… I’m twice your age Jenna.’

‘So?’

‘So I don’t have a body like your Ex.’

‘Peter the clue to this is he’s my Ex.’

Again he laughed, but it was a nervous sound, embarrassed and vulnerable.

‘Even so, I um… I’ve not been with someone new for thirty years and I’m not at my most confident when faced with a stunning, vibrant young woman in her prime.’

Jenna titled her head and looked hard at him until he ventured to return the favour.

‘Peter I don’t care if there’s no six pack and you can’t bench press your own weight… not that I imagine you weigh much,’ she giggled.

‘Thanks… I just… well…’ she saw his embarrassment increase and he covered his eyes. Jenna pressed one hand to his thigh.

‘Stop thinking. Stop worrying! Let’s just see what happens.’

‘Right,’ he said uncertainly. ‘Um… how do we er… start?’

 

After all his lovely ideas, the meal, the trip out, the dress and all the respect he had treated her with; after all of his confidence in how to treat a woman correctly, Peter had frozen. Now Jenna had to take control a little; she could do that for him. Even though she still felt nervous, and her heart was in her mouth. She took his hand and tugged, smiled an easy happy smile even though she was sure he could feel her trembling and lead him to the stairs.

She watched him swallow and look up towards the landing and she suddenly felt afraid. This was his family home, he shared this space with Elaine and everywhere she looked there were reminders. They would be reminding him too and maybe he just couldn’t go through with it. Well so be it if that was the case, she had to respect that. She would just have to cope with it. She waited for him to make a move, and in that move a decision.

‘Your room,’ he said very quietly, ‘If you don’t mind?’

He looked down at her and she nodded, going on up ahead. She reached the guest room door and pushed it open, the lights still on from earlier. Peter glanced at the switch and she could read his insecurity in his blush. She wanted to argue, she wanted to plead that she wanted to see him, but she also wanted him to be comfortable so she reached out and flicked the lights off so that there was darkness except for streetlamps and the glow of the landing.

‘Thanks,’ he said awkwardly.

‘Anything to make you more at ease,’ she said and stopped, her voice wobbling. She stood gawkily in front of him, waiting, unsure of what to do.

‘Jenna,’ he said after a moment, ‘ Before we start anything you need to know; any time you want to stop just say. Anything you don’t want to do. I don’t want you for one moment to feel uncomfortable, or… or worse. Just tell me. And tell what you do want, what you like, how I can please you.’

She laughed a little nervously, ‘What if it’s shocking,’ she joked.

Peter returned the laugh, ‘I’m fairly liberal,’ he said, ‘Despite being a nervous wreck right now.’

She giggled and then silence again descended. One of them was really going to have to tackle this but she guessed he was too polite, too much of a gentleman; that he was waiting this first time for her to lead him. She stepped towards him and placed her hands on his shoulders, immediately feeling his coming around her waist.

‘Let’s start where we left off this morning,’ she said and saw his smile flicker in the dim light. He rested his forehead on hers and rubbed noses before leaning back and kissing her hairline.

‘That sounds like a good start,’ he said, ‘if we can exchange the kitchen chair for the bed?’

‘That sounds ok by… ‘ Jenna let out a squeal as he bent and scooped her up into his arms, turned her round so that her skirt flew about them and moved to stand over the bed. ‘What are you doing?’ she laughed.

‘You’ll see,’ he said, a little more confidence in his voice, ‘Remember the original plan for this weekend?’

‘To show me how I should be treated?’

‘So far we’ve done quite well…’

‘I’d say,’ she agreed, ‘Day trips, good food, designer dress.’

‘Well now,’ he said, laying her down on the covers of the bed and crawling over her to look down into her eyes. ‘Now I’ll show you how a man should treat the woman he loves… in bed….’

‘The woman he loves?’ she echoed, something fluttering in her chest at the words and making her relax at last.

‘We established that already didn’t we?’ Peter said, emotion detectable in his voice. ‘I adore you Jenna, I have for years and never had the chance to demonstrate. So that’s what I’m going to do now.’


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get M rated.

Peter, kissing her, wine flowing through her bloodstream, her mind pleasantly relaxed, her body responding to the press of his weight. She could smell his aftershave, always citrus, and the scent of his skin beneath it, clean but masculine. He’d showered before dinner, tamed his hair and shaved but already she could feel the coarseness of his stubble at certain angles, sweeping across her cheek as he leaned down to her neck.

It was surreal; arousing, curious, unexpected. Jenna had half thought the whole weekend would go by and they’d never pluck up the courage, or they’d find that the attraction they had felt over the years and months wasn’t quite what they had thought. They’d laugh and cancel the whole thing, two friends and nothing more. Spend Sunday watching boxsets once reality had kicked in.

Instead she was laying on the guest room bed with Peter in the dark. She was looking above her to the overhead lamp, its bulbs cold and occasionally catching the light from the hall. Peter shifted over her and she caught his dark profile, his lips parted as he moved to kiss further down her throat. He made a tiny noise of pleasure, and swept his tongue against her skin.

Jenna shut her eyes, tried to will the surreal feeling away. She’d known him so long, so well, spent so much innocent time with him, been to his home and met his family on countless occasions and now she was laying on his bed and he was slipping his fingers under the strap of her dress. Was this right? Even with permission? Even though she wanted it? She suddenly felt his lips at the swell of her breast and drew in a gasp of breath, her eyes flying open..

Peter immediately stopped, stopped and propped himself up to look at her seriously, the concern palpable even in the dark.

‘Jenna?’ he said in a hushed tone. ‘You OK? You want me to stop?’

‘I…’ she stared a second longer at the ceiling and then shook her head, ‘No, not stop, I just…’ she pushed herself up on her elbows. ‘How are you doing?’ she asked, ‘I mean does this feel weird?’

‘Um… a bit? I suppose. Are you sure you don’t want to call a halt to it?’

‘Do you?’

‘No… no!’ he reaffirmed. The pair looked at each other for a minute or so before Jenna realised they were both biting their lower lips, mirroring one another in anxiety. She giggled.

‘We need to relax,’ Jenna said. ‘And I need to stop thinking…’

‘What were you thinking about?’

‘Us… this… the significance of what we are doing…’

Peter drew in a sharp breath, ‘Bit deep. Bit scary, understandable you might have second thoughts.’

‘I don’t want to stop; I just don’t want to think either. I need distracting.’

He nodded, ‘I wasn’t distracting enough?’ he asked with the barest trace of hurt and Jenna felt an immediate stab of guilt.

‘No that’s not what I was saying you were very distracting, I need to rein my thoughts in and just focus on what you’re doing, how you feel… Oh I’m sorry!’ Jenna sat up fully and crossed her legs even in her fancy full skirted dress. She sat with her arms loose over her knees. Peter scrabbled up and sat awkwardly at the edge of the bed.

‘This isn’t working is it?’ he sighed.

‘No, no it is, it can!’ Jenna rushed to reassure.

‘It’s OK, Jenna, I did wonder if when faced with the reality it just, _I_ just, wouldn’t do it for you…. It’s fine. I’ve really enjoyed today and maybe its best if we leave it here.’

‘I don’t want to leave it here!’ she said quickly, a feeling of panic inside her. ‘That’s your lack of confidence speaking.’

Peter rubbed his face and pushed his hands through his hair. ‘Better it speaks now that at a more crucial moment,’ he said mirthlessly. She watched him deflate, leaning forward over his knees, his head hanging. Jenna crawled over to where he was sitting and put her arms around him.

‘I should never have said anything,’ she said.

‘You didn’t have to, you felt… tense.’

‘I didn’t mean to.’

‘You can’t help it Jenna!’ he turned to look at her behind him.

‘Can we try again?’ she asked.

Peter looked at her with a slightly pained expression. ‘You’re sure?’

‘I promise not to think… in fact if you let me start this time, I promise I’ll focus.’

‘I’m supposed to be showing you how you should be treated.’

‘You can do that too… just a bit later. Seriously, if we want this to work, you need to let me start. Control freak?’ she gestured at herself.

He snorted at her and the old joke. ‘Fine.’

Jenna quickly got up from behind him and clambered around until she stood before him, beckoning him up with both hands. Her shoes had already been lost and one strap of her dress had fallen down her arm. She stood looking up at him, reading his nerves through every tiny movement of his face she could see in the gloom. She reached around to find the zip of her outfit, and looked straight into his eyes.

‘No half measures,’ she said confidently and pulled the zip down, ‘I love this dress but it has to go,’ she finished with the zip but held the material at her breast to her, keeping it suspended as she prepared herself. She was largely pretending to be so sure of herself, but her heart was racing under her fingertips and she was sure she was shaking. At the same time however she wanted to show him, everything, she wanted to lay herself a little vulnerable to encourage him on and by doing that be in control. She knew she had a good figure, she knew the effect it could have on men, and she knew Peter’s reaction to her would be everything she wanted to see, unlike Richard’s half interested glances.

Jenna dropped the dress to the floor and stepped out of it, carefully keeping one arm over her bare breasts and leaving herself just in her knickers, black, lace. Peter’s expression was to coin a phrase, priceless and his jaw actually dropped leading her to a small burst of laughter.

‘Remember to breathe,’ she teased. He probably blushed but she couldn’t really see.

‘I… Jenna, you can’t do that to me I’m an old man, what if I keel over?’ he was trying to look anywhere but at her.

She stepped up to him, felt the heat of his body through the thin material of his shirt and used her free hand to push him down into a sitting position again, this time climbing into his lap. She leaned forward and caught his mouth, kissed him deeply and wriggled until she was in the right position. Jenna didn’t stop kissing until she could hear his response deep in his throat and felt his breathing pick up. She sat back and exposed her breasts for the first time.

Peter opened his eyes from the kiss and glanced down. Her body she knew was illuminated from the street lights outside so he had a perfectly good vantage point. He flicked his eyes down and then up again guiltily. Jenna giggled.

‘You can look you know. You can even feel if you like.’

Peter laughed derisively at himself. ‘God what is wrong with me? I feel like I’m fifteen and virginal.’

‘Well clearly it is hugely intimidating having sex with someone as gorgeous as me,’ she teased.

Peter looked at her seriously, ‘Well it is a bit, yes. We spoke about this.’

Jenna tilted her head and smiled sadly. ‘Don’t be daft. Come here, shut up and just…’ she heard a note of desperation come into her voice, ‘Just touch me. Anywhere you like. Please!.’

‘Jenna I don’t want to… let you down, or disappoint you. What if… what if I get carried away and then it’s all over or… or worse… what if I just…’ he lowered his voice, ‘What if I just _can’t_?’

Jenna stroked his hair, ‘Is that what some of this is about?’ she asked seriously and was rewarded with an awkward wriggle beneath her as he looked away. ‘Because it happens to everyone… you know sometimes… and I don’t want you worrying the whole time we’re together.’ His head dropped to her shoulder and he moaned pitifully. Jenna rubbed his back.

‘I can’t believe I’m having this conversation,’ he said, ‘I have a stunning young woman, mostly naked on my lap and I’m worried I can’t…’ he trailed off. ‘Jesus Christ, I feel old.’

‘No you don’t, you don’t feel old to me at all, ’ Jenna said, ‘Now come on,’ she brought her hands to his shirt and started unbuttoning with him watching in abject alarm as she proceeded. His skin looked pale in the gloom. Jenna tugged the shirt tails from his trousers and pushed the whole thing away, pulling it from his arms and disposing it on the floor with her dress. She stood briefly and pushed him backwards with an ‘oof.’ Then she heard a giggle.

‘That’s better,’ she said, and straddled his legs so that she could reach his belt.

‘Um… Jenna,’ his warning wasn’t entirely serious.

‘Let’s just get the lot off,’ she said, ‘You’ll feel better I promise.’

‘I’m not sure I will,’ he said sucking his stomach in as her hand brushed it.

‘Trust me,’ she undid the belt and zip, manoeuvred his trousers free of him and returned to lie next to him on the bed. She rolled over him until she straddled him across his hips, his boxers still in place. He wasn’t hard yet but she knew from the morning he could get there, he was just nervous, the same way she was nervous beneath this confident façade. She leaned forward and kissed him briefly.

‘No more distractions,’ she said, and sucked again on his lower lip. He smiled and she felt his warm hands slide down over her back, hold her hips as he kissed her again of his own accord, pushing deep with his tongue, letting himself fall into a rhythm with her until his pelvis was grinding up into hers and her skin felt on fire where they touched.

Jenna could feel wet heat pooling between her legs and thrust in frustration against where she could feel he was getting hard. Quickly, directed by her, she took his hands and pushed her knickers away from her, giving her a rush of freedom followed by a heightened arousal. His fingers came to cover her sex and then her was pushing through her folds, exploring and registering what made her gasp and where. Jenna broke their kiss and let her head drop against him with a moan.

Something in the sound changed everything. ‘Oh, Jenna,’ he said throatily. ‘Good girl.’

Peter immediately flipped her over and pushed his fingers further into her, seeking the most sensitive areas inside her and stroking in time with his kisses. He was rock hard now against her leg and she wondered for a moment if this was it, if he would enter her at last. She wanted to plead, awash now with an unfamiliar and powerful emotion. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and moaned with need before she felt him begin to move down her body, kissing and sucking her breasts, laying a trail of kisses on her stomach. He spoke to her between breaths, calling her beautiful, telling her how good she felt and smelled. Then he nuzzled at her further below, pressed small kisses to the inside of her thighs and let his breath tickle her until she was straining just to have his mouth on her.

‘God Jenna, let me taste you, please, you’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.’ His mouth grazed over her, a barely there sensation that drove her insane.

‘Peter!’ she forced out the word, her whole body tensed trying to increase the pleasure. She braced her head against the bed and arched up towards him, her hands grasping the covers. There was an agonising pause in his movements and she felt him come away from her leaving her bare in the cooler air. Then, finally, his tongue slipping between her swollen sex, the stimulation sharp and overwhelming.

‘Ah!’ Jenna’s eyes flew open for a moment and her grip on the covers tightened. He moved expertly between her legs, hooking her thighs over his shoulders and settling against her. Long slow movements, no rush to what he was doing, completely in control. He teased and built the sensation until she shook with desire, her muscles and nerves overwrought. She could hardly breath for need and pushed one hand firmly into his hair as he carefully circled her most sensitive spot.

‘There, please, there…’ she begged and felt him smile, felt a rush of breath as he pulled back. ‘Oh, no…. please!’

He blew gently across her flesh and let his hands softly stroke her thighs. ‘Jenna…’ he said, returning one hand between her legs and slowly pushing his fingers into her. Jenna bucked and squeezed her eyes shut, reached again for his hair.

‘God, please…’

His lips brushed against her and then his tongue pushed hard where she needed it, the perfect speed and pressure rushing her to her conclusion as his hands milked pleasure from her. It hit suddenly, a wave of darkness behind her eyes suddenly transforming into brilliant white and her body contracted forcefully, pushing her up to where she held his head to her, her pelvis thrusting hard against him.

It took her a few moments to realise she was screaming, calling out his name, moaning loudly. She had never been loud, never been that disinhibited, but she couldn’t stop, he was hitting every spot she needed again and again until it felt like it would never end, but at last it did and she collapsed back on the bed, panting, sweating, feeling as Peter crawled up her body and lay to one side.

He stroked her damp hair from her face and kissed her gently; traced the line of her jaw and neck, the sweat between her breasts. He covered one with his hand and let his thumb move over her nipple. Jenna looked across at him in the dim light of the room.

‘That… was amazing,’ she said and watched as his usual modesty kicked in and made him uncomfortable. He looked down and away. ‘No, Peter, that was amazing,’ she forced herself up a little though every muscle felt weak and shaky. ‘Why you didn’t think you were up to this I will never know.’

He finally returned her gaze, ‘I’m a bit out of practice these days,’ he said elusively. ‘And you’re a young woman, I didn’t know if I would stand the pace.’

‘Oh shut up,’ Jenna kissed him and returned to laying on her side, letting him trace the curves of her body over and over. She glanced down at the movements of his hand and felt her skin tingle; she looked further towards his own arousal. Peter was still wearing his boxers but he was hard and ready. Jenna bit her lip, put her hand on his chest.

He glanced up at her as she touched him.

‘So…’ she started, ‘Your turn?’

‘My turn?’ he asked cautiously.

She nodded and let her fingers run down over his stomach. They settled at the waistband of his boxers and tugged slightly.

‘I’m supposed to be spoiling you,’ he said.

‘And you can… in a little while, once I’ve lived out a fantasy of my own.’

‘Oh?’ he raised his eyebrows.

‘I really want to do this,’ Jenna said, slipping her hand under the material. She felt him immediately hard and just a little damp. She wrapped her hand around him and felt him jerk. Peter closed his eyes and let out a quiet moan which was enough permission for her to remove the last of his clothing and encourage him up the bed a little. She adjusted her position and ran her hand slowly up the length of his thigh, cupping his balls and then holding him at the base. Jenna bent and drew a long line with her tongue to the tip of him.

‘Jenna!’ he said suddenly from above her. ‘You don’t need to do that, really…’

‘Shussh’ she blew across him and he squirmed. Jenna flicked her tongue out and drew another line on his flesh, ran it back to his swollen head and swirled it around him sucking softly at first.

‘Better than ice cream…’ she commented and heard him laugh. His body seemed to relax at last and she sucked again, harder this time, deeper. She felt his hands come to her hair and the bed shift under his weight as he braced himself. Already his breathing was coming hard and fast overhead and she remembered what he had said about being out of practice. The over stimulated shaking she had experienced herself was prominent now in his thighs and he was moaning. Jenna could taste him leaking against her tongue and was torn. To have him finish like this would be something, to give him that gift and that trust to have him come in her mouth, but she also wanted more. She wanted them to do this together as one. She would need to stop and soon if they were to manage that.

As though reading her mind he suddenly squeezed her shoulder.

‘Jenna… stop… you have to stop… I….’

She pulled back and found him concentrating hard, desperately trying to force down his arousal. She climbed back up to lay by him as he covered his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. Jenna gave him a moment.

‘You OK?’ she asked after a beat. He nodded and lifted his hand from his eyes.

‘Sorry…. I um…’

‘Stop apologising,’ she said and cuddled closer.

‘I have to apologise, if I was younger this wouldn’t matter, I’d be up and running again in half an hour.’

Jenna giggled, ‘Yeah maybe but you wouldn’t have your skill.’

He snorted. ‘You’re quite happy then?’

‘For now,’ she said lightly.

‘For now!?’ he turned over to face her, ‘No pressure then?’

Jenna looked up at him from her place on the bed and smiled; let her fingers run through his hair again.

‘You are lovely,’ she said from nowhere, the words just falling out of her. Peter raised his eyebrows.

‘Ok…’ he said slowly. Jenna giggled again.

‘OK not sure where that came from but I mean it. You’re clueless about how lovely you are, always are. It’s the same in bed as it is in any other area of your life. You made me feel amazing, and now I feel relaxed and happy and I’m laughing…’

‘… the laughing thing isn’t necessarily intended.’

‘It’s important to laugh,’ Jenna said, ‘Sex is silly.’

‘It is with me yes,’ he conceded.

‘Stop putting yourself down!’

He looked away but there was a half-smile on his face. Jenna considered for a moment.

‘Peter?’ she asked.

He looked up at her. ‘Hmm?’

‘Will you make love to me now?’

He held her gaze for a moment and she felt something in her flutter nervously. She hadn’t realised until this moment how much it meant, to be joined with him, to feel him inside her, for him to be truly hers for a night. She had been spoiled and pleasured and done the same for him but this was more, an immeasurable more that she couldn’t express. She felt him come closer, drop a gentle kiss onto her mouth.

‘Yes,’ he said, his voice rough, ‘I want to do that very much.’ Peter slipped his arms around her until he held her close and pressed his face against her hair while Jenna felt the fluttering grow and climb to her throat, to her eyes, sharp tears forming which she fought to hide.

He kissed her slowly across her neck and jaw. Maybe it was a good thing he had wanted the light off, maybe it would stop him from seeing her like that, wet cheeks and red eyes. She tried subtly to wipe away the tears. Daft girl, stop it, it’s supposed to be a fun weekend, just fun, _just fun_. So she kissed the top of his head as he moved down her body and focused on how he made her feel.

Beautiful. Unique. Loved.

He made her feel loved.

_He made her feel loved._

She squeezed her eyes shut again against the impending deluge of emotion. Just focus, focus. She needed more. ‘Peter?’ she said quietly, ‘Peter, kiss me, please…’

She heard his breath hitch a little and when he pulled back she was almost certain he was crying.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday morning... M rated stuff.

Autumn morning, the darkness turning gradually back into dawn, grey through the windows, fuzzy light, the streetlamps turning off like dominos, in rows. Peter watched as the world came into focus around him, the protective gloom of their shared room lifting and revealing the truth.

Jenna was curled beside him, one arm under her head, holding the pillow, the other lightly folded over his, curved around her waist. He was pressed at her back, feeling each movement, watching each breath and each disturbed hair as she exhaled. He leaned over and swept it back, tucked it with the others behind her ear and allowed himself a moment longer to watch her face.

How could anything so beautiful be happening? How could anyone as delicate and precious be lying next to him? He bent and inhaled her scent; shampoo and perfume now laced with something deeper, the shadow of arousal and musk. He closed his eyes and remembered, breathing in the scent for the first time, the taste, the way it fired him deep inside. The way it took his breath away. He inhaled again and let the memories play, feeling a little frisson of excitement travel down his abdomen, feeling himself twitch at her back. He kissed her shoulder gently, torn between letting her sleep and watching her perfect beauty, and waking her to satisfy his increasingly mounting desire.

She wouldn’t reject him; he realised that now, and the thought filled him with a mass of confidence and pride. She had taken him last night, deep inside of her, in total trust and she had wanted him fully, calling his name, coming hard as he thrust inside her. He smiled and felt a thrill, his willpower starting to weaken. He wanted her again, but this time in daylight, this time he wanted to watch her face.

For him to see her face however, she would see his and there lay a problem as he remembered the previous night. The flood of emotion that had hit him as he made love to her had been unexpected. Love was not unforeseen but the intensity of their union had surprised and frightened him. Not for many years had he felt so overwhelmed, so vulnerable in the arms of a woman, and not for many years had he been able to go with that feeling.

She had asked him to kiss her and he had stopped his path down her throat to pull back and look at her. Even in the dark he could see her damp cheeks and huge eyes. It hit him suddenly that this was their moment together, and that anything he had ever wanted to express to Jenna had to come now. On Monday this Jenna would be gone, once again a friend, once again untouchable except this time he would know what he was missing and it would hurt, by God it would hurt.

He had kissed her as she asked but his own feelings were pouring from him now, tears mingling with hers as she clung to him. There was little need to say anything other than gentle endearments and one another’s name and he found himself quickly settling between her legs, holding himself above her as she adjusted her position. He was over stimulated from Jenna taking him in her mouth, and it added to the turmoil of passion and hormones, so that he found himself begging her to let him make love to her even though it had been her who had asked. At last he pushed into her, aroused, emotional, holding her tight to him as he moved.

It had been slow at first, but then their bodies had overtaken them. Peter had reached down to touch her to increase her desire and it had driven her quickly and assuredly towards her conclusion. He had felt her tighten around him and suddenly he was unable to hold back, mouthing supplications as he drove into her, stiffening in her arms, hearing and feeling her release as he felt his own, a painful tearing at first followed by desperate pleasure.

To do that again… He kissed her neck and saw her move slightly in her sleep; but this time he would have to be more controlled. The breakdown itself might not even be the problem, Jenna cared for him, she would comfort him and sooth his tears, but what the breakdown symbolised was more difficult to accept. What he felt for her was much greater than he had admitted before this weekend. He had no idea how he would cope long term.

He pushed the thoughts aside. They had one day, one day together, and he had made plans although these might now alter slightly. They were none the less valid however and would he hoped go a long way to creating memories for Jenna, towards demonstrating what it was to be adored and cherished. He ignored his own need to make those memories and how much that had grown since yesterday.

Peter slipped his arm out from under hers and started to roll to the other side of the bed, ready to set about the morning’s tasks, but she felt him and let out a small moan.

‘Mmm, don’t go,’ she mumbled. ‘Come ‘ere…’ she rolled towards him and held out her arms, pouting a little. It made him smile so he agreed to snuggle down under the covers again. Jenna tangled herself around him to keep him in place.

‘Warm…’ she muttered and wriggled against his bare skin. Peter felt a tingle pass down through his body to where he was swollen and pressed against her. His need was growing by the second. ‘Mmm,’ her voice sounded pleased, ‘Hello,’ her hand was moving down over his back and onto his hips, rounding his body to come into contact with his member and running happily down its length. Peter gasped.

Jenna wriggled and looked up at him and for the first time he saw her desire, her dilated pupils and flushed cheeks in the cool light of day. He felt her rub her thumb over his tip and he moved his hips subtly towards her again. She bit her lip as she studied his eyes and he realised she was seeing the same thing. His stomach jittered a little nervously and he watched as she slid backwards and pulled away the covers to expose him, finally able to see his body, but he held off protesting.

Her face registered nothing but happiness and she straddled him just below his hips. Jenna bent forward to put her hands on his shoulders and drew them down over his chest, slowly massaging him over his ribs, her fingers lingering on his nipples when she heard his breath catch. She reached his stomach and he flinched, feeling immediately stupid but completely unable to help it. He saw Jenna shake her head.

‘You’re so silly,’ she teased, ‘There is nothing wrong with your tummy…’ she considered, ‘Or are you just sensitive there?’ she queried with a devilish look.

‘Jenna…’ he felt her fingers rest on either side of him, ‘Oh no… please….’ The fingers moved slightly and a shot of ticklish discomfort ran through him causing him to convulse. Jenna exploded in first of laughter and attacked him harder than before until the tears ran from his eyes and he was forced to pin her by her arms underneath him.

‘And here was I thinking you were going to seduce me…’ he commented breathlessly.

‘I still could,’ she said smugly, ‘But only if you let me go.’

‘Uh-huh,’ he pulled her wrists together and then closed one hand around them, his fingers long and strong. Jenna made a small show of wriggling under him.

‘Oh dear I’m stuck,’ she said plaintively.

‘Shame,’ he said.

‘Isn’t it?’ she teased.

He hovered over her, sweating from the battle they had just had, and aching from desire. He watched her eyes and then her mouth as her lips parted, swollen and pink. She glanced down between them and raised her eyebrows, challenging him.

‘Jenna…’ he breathed. He fastened his lips to hers and then letting go of her wrists, slipped his arm under her, flipped her so that she was on top. She was quick to line up with him and held him in her hand as she slid over his length. Peter closed his eyes at the sensation, tight and wanting, slippery when he touched her. It made his insides coil in arousal and he felt himself surge towards release but he had to hold on for her. For a moment he placed his mind elsewhere, to the pain of the coming Monday and he backed away again from his climax.

Once he gained control again he allowed himself to looked at her. Jenna was already moving steadily, her hands on her breast and her head down slightly so that her hair fell forward. He found himself stroking her waist and hips, touching her between her legs, removing one of her hands so that he might cup her breast himself. She was speeding up now, approaching her goal and he felt reasonably in control, like he could trust himself to please her.

Then Jenna looked down at him and locked eyes and he had never felt so vulnerable. He felt his face flush and he tried to look away from the intensity in her gaze. She was rapidly climbing and he could hear it in her breathing, in her tiny moans and those sounds went straight through him, piling need upon need until he was straining under her. Still she wouldn’t break eye contact, instead leaning forward and switching her angle. He panted, his release beginning to spiral, and suddenly unable to swallow down the sounds that had been threatening to break from his throat.

‘Ah…Ah… Jenna,’ he reached up and held her shoulder, pulling her down to him and crushing his lips to hers. Her tongue in his mouth, hot, unco-ordinated kisses punctuated with gasping breaths and then his climax ripped from him again and he froze, pumping his release into her waiting body while she thrust over him.

Jenna collapsed on top of him, dazed and breathless. Part of him wanted to giggle, another part of him was proud that he appeared to have worn out someone half his age, but then reality slowly seeped in again as she lifted herself from him and he felt himself slip from her body. Again he felt a sting of unwanted emotion and of anticipated loss.

‘Jenna?’ he asked quietly.

‘Yeah,’ he thought he heard something in the tone of her voice but he was afraid to look. Instead he felt for her hand and held it to him.

‘I don’t know, it could just be me but… are you getting the emotional rollercoaster thing?’

She laughed a little, ‘On top of the world one minute and then crying the next. You noticed, huh?’

‘Only because I’m doing the same. I don’t know if I’m coming or going.’

‘Definitely coming,’ Jenna said deadpan.

Peter laughed despite himself. ‘Ok I can’t deny that element,’ he admitted.

Beside him Jenna sighed, ‘What on earth are we going to do?’ she asked.

‘Honestly I can’t even think about it.’

‘But we need to think about it, we can’t just wake up tomorrow and go back to things as they were.’

‘It’s one option.’

‘It’s not a viable one…’

‘Jenna…’ he sighed tiredly. ‘I don’t know… I may be older but I’m not any wiser and I don’t have a magic answer. It’s all I can do to keep myself together right now.’

There was a pause and he immediately felt bad. ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘This isn’t your fault.’

‘Not yours either.’

‘I’m married and should know better than to participate in weekend flings with friends.’

‘You’re showing me what it is to be loved… it’s not your fault you’re just really convincing,’ Jenna said. ‘I don’t think Elaine knew this would happen,’ she added.

‘If ever a plan backfired,’ Peter sighed.

Jenna sat up and looked down at him, ‘It’s not the plan that’s the problem though is it?’ she said, ‘I men yes it brought all this to a head but if we’re honest, really honest…’

‘It was a long time coming…’ he agreed.

Jenna looked at him a moment longer before turning to the window. ‘Sun’s fully up,’ she said, ‘The Last Day has officially started.’ Peter exhaled.

‘Did you mean that to sound as dramatic as it did?’ he asked.

‘Adds to the atmosphere,’ she said a little sadly.

‘Right, that’s it,’ he sat up himself, ‘I have plans, we are doing the plans. Otherwise we will just lie here all day having overly emotional sex and sad conversations.’

Jenna giggled, ‘What’s the alternative? Do we still get to have sex?’

‘Yes but I need a bit of recovery time,’ he admitted.

Jenna nodded, ‘That seems reasonable. And I think we should avoid the sad conversation until tomorrow.’

‘Agreed.’

‘Breakfast?’

‘Yes,’

‘I’ll go,’ Jenna said. He was about to protest but then she added, ‘Please, it keeps my head occupied. I’ll bring it up. We can laze about; it is Sunday after all.’

‘Ok,’ he watched her gather herself and slip from the room, a sense of unreality around the scene. She had one weekend where his family had whole lifetimes. She was a ghost of a loved one, in a house where she’d never belonged, in a painting created as a snapshot of their love. His friend Jenna, who had become so much more, but just for a morning, just for a day. She somehow fitted so well into the picture, but he knew that she couldn’t stay.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter reveals a talent or two

Breakfast in bed. As hard as Jenna tried she couldn’t get one picture out of her head. That of Elaine and Peter enjoying the same thing on a regular basis. Lying under the covers, a tray between them furnished with hot coffee and low effort breakfast foods. Fruit, croissants, Danishes; much as she had in front of her now. She had trotted down through the house and to the kitchen to make up the selection; surprised when she reached the fridge and the cupboards how easily she found things. She supposed she had been at Peter’s plenty but she didn’t think she’d memorised where the plates were kept.

Maybe she just shared a logic with whoever had decided where things went. Maybe she and Elaine were quite similar after all, something Peter had said in the past. The thought made her more uneasy than it used to. Was that why he felt the way he did, or was it coincidence?

She stacked the tray and then trotted to the front door where the Sunday Papers had arrived. It amused her that Peter was so technophobic he still got the Sunday Times delivered. She tucked it under her arm best she could and hefted the tray, half in a mind that there would be a disaster and the whole lot would go flying. She barely made it up the stairs with everything intact.

Now the light from outside was brighter and almost threatened to reach the definition of autumn sunshine. There were newspapers across the covers and Peter was currently hiding behind the arts section, humming now and then. Jenna knelt on the bed wearing nothing but her knickers, flicking through the fashion pages and occasionally having a strawberry fed to her whenever Peter turned a page. Every now and then she caught a glimpse of him, his glasses heavy rimmed and flattering, perched on his nose. He was usually quite embarrassed by them but not today.

She edged closer and grabbed the newspaper in the middle, pulling it down and peering at him.

‘I was reading that,’ he said over his glasses. She grinned.

‘Have you recovered yet?’ she asked.

Peter cocked his head, ‘Someone’s impatient.’

‘Yup.’

He pursed his lips and very slowly removed his glasses, set them safely by the bed. Jenna felt a little kick of excitement ad he watched her. Eventually he moved the tray away to join his specs and left a chasm of duvet between them. Jenna eyed him in amusement, refusing to let her mind slip to the dark places she had been fighting off all morning.

‘Well?’ she asked. ‘Do you think you’re up to it?’

His eyes glinted, ‘Oh you are going to regret even trying to wind me up,’ he said and the next moment tackled her, making her shriek with laughter.

He was more relaxed today she noted, with both her, and himself. His self esteem seemed to be improved, he was less self-conscious and he appeared to be pulling out the stops when it came to tricks only experience could lend a man. In truth by the time Jenna lay washed out and exhausted amongst the newspapers she had to confessed she was the one in need of recovery. He spotted it straight away.

‘Why don’t I run you a bath?’ he said from beside her where he was leaning on his wrists.

‘Mmm-hmm,’ she agreed, ‘Good plan. I think I pulled a muscle.’

‘Which one?’

‘Not sure I don’t think it existed before.’

He snorted and pushed himself up, briefly touching her cheek before he went into the bathroom to prepare. Jenna heard the taps come on full force and drifted while they ran, rousing only when the bed shifted under her.

‘All yours,’ Peter said quietly, ‘try not to fall asleep and freeze in there though.’

‘Come and find me if I’m still in there in an hour,’ Jenna said sitting up. ‘Wait, you’re not joining me?’

‘Not this time,’ he said, ‘It’s important to have some of your own time….’

‘Normally I’d agree but as we only have this weekend….’

‘There’s something I need to do,’ he said mysteriously, ‘Something I hope you’ll like.’

‘Oh?’ her curiosity immediately peaked. She’d had so many surprises in the last two days.

He kissed her tenderly and looked deep into her eyes. ‘You’ll see… just make sure you leave the door open.’

Jenna’s eyes widened. ‘Are you dressing up like a fireman or something?’

Peter tilted his head and looked at her in disbelief before dissolving into laughter. She felt warmed by his easy smile. ‘Don’t be an idiot,’ he said, ‘I’d have to have an actual muscle to be a fireman!’

‘OI, you’re quite toned these days!’

‘Shush… now go and have your bath and you’ll see what I’ve got prepared for you later. Its… something you’ve always wanted me to do but I’ve always refused because… well because.’

‘That sounds… potentially dodgy,’ she laughed, then Jenna frowned, ‘OK I’m going to think about that, it can’t be that hard to guess.’

Peter had reached the door, ‘Bath!’ he instructed, ‘You can think there.’

But she couldn’t at least not at first, he had laid the room out so beautifully. Not to the point of an embarrassing stereotype but just enough to be luxurious without being obvious. Huge thick towels, subtly scented candles and bath oil that complimented them. In the bath itself two dozen rose petals soaking in the warm water, two dozen actual roses standing on the far end of the tub.

Jenna sighed and let a smile cross her lips. He always got the balance right, not too much, not too little. Just enough to make her feel special. She removed her knickers and made note of the robe waiting for her over a chair. Jenna checked the water temperature and grinned. He was so good.

She stepped in and lowered herself amongst the petals, looked up at the window where sunlight softly dappled the frosted glass. It was too quiet, much too quiet and it lead her thoughts down roads she didn’t want to travel. It was lunchtime at least now and less than twenty-four hours until they parted. She had no clue what to do, and neither apparently had Peter. An impossible situation, impossible options. Deep down she knew there was only one. Go back to how it was. That hurt more than she ever had thought possible.

She began to hate the silence, so heavy except for the odd splash if water as she moved. She was restless, increasingly unhappy. Perhaps she should just step out of the bath and seek Peter’s company, push her worries from her mind as best he could, just distract herself over and over until she had to leave.

Then it started and she held her breath. The light strum of an acoustic guitar quickly followed by individual notes. It wasn’t a song she knew but its sound was distinctively Celtic and she wondered how Peter had learned it first, through school? Through a family member? It was clearly something he knew well as the notes kept coming.

She wasn’t expecting the quality of his voice. She knew he could sing, had been in a silly band as a young man, would occasionally sing in his trailer, usually Bowie, but she’d never heard anything like this. A Celtic love song no less. None of his usual punk or rock but something that went straight to her heart. Yes she had tried repeatedly to get him to sing for her, to seriously sing and play but he’d never mustered the courage before now.

_O, wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar_

_O, wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?_

_To ride on a horse, or be drawn in a car,_

_Or walk by my side, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?_

_I care not thy daddie, has lands and has money;_

_I care not thy kin, sae high and sae lordly;_

_But say that thou'lt hae me for better or worse_

_And walk by my side, sweet Tibbie Dunbar._

His voice was clear and emotive as he sang from beginning to end telling the story of a woman he considered too far out of his league to love him and all that he was willing to give her. Jenna felt herself tearing up again as she listened. It was a plea for love to win over the judgements of the world, to cross cultural boundaries and society’s expectations, and at the same time it was a demonstration of a talent he kept largely hidden. She knew it was probably difficult for him to perform it on both levels and that made it all the more special.

_I offer you nothing of silver or land,_

_What man can determine the price of your hand_

_But g'in your consent we'd be richer by far_

_Oh walk by me side sweet Tibbie Dunbar_

_Oh wilt thou become a poor beggars lady_

_To lie in the heather rolled up in my plaidie_

_The sky for a roof and yon candle a star_

_And my love for your fire sweet Tibbie Dunbar.._

The words and music ended and silence descended over the bathroom again. Jenna wondered for a moment if there was more to come. If he had more he needed to say, or if he might climb the stairs to check on her and see her response, probably embarrassed and self-conscious. However there was no movement so after a minute she hauled herself up from the still warm bath, wrapped the robe around her and went looking for him.

He was in his study, a room she had been in a few times when they were working together. They’d run through lines in relative privacy, surrounded by mementos of his, photographs and awards and paintings. He looked up when she came to the door, the guitar still across his lap and his glasses back on his nose. There was no music sheet, he appeared to have played and sung from memory.

Peter looked at her nervously and she grinned. ‘Why have you never done that before?’ she asked.

‘Because its deeply embarrassing and also I’m a bit rubbish,’ he said pulling the guitar off his thighs and setting it carefully to one side.

‘You are not rubbish!,’ Jenna complained and sat opposite him, ‘It’s beautiful, your playing and your voice.’

‘Thank you,’ he said uncomfortably.

‘And your song choice,’ she added, ‘Though I don’t know it. Is it an old one?’

‘Very,’ he said, pushing his specs up his nose.

‘How old?’

‘Robert Burns old.’

‘Oh!’ she exclaimed. ‘So proper old love poem? Talk about going back to your roots.’

‘Technically my roots are Irish Italian, but yes, most kids in Scotland my age learned a whole lot of Burns. I don’t know why I picked this one, it just… fitted somehow.’

‘How simple life could be if all you needed was love?’ Jenna guessed.

‘Something like that.’

They were silent for a moment. Jenna stared down at her hands. ‘This is miserable,’ she said,’ I mean it’s great in spells and then its miserable again.’

Peter chuckled drily, ‘Yes. Hopefully in the future though we will just remember the good bits!’

‘Maybe…’ she paused. ‘What was your plan for this afternoon? You said we had plans and we should stick to them, that they were happy making plans.’

Peter straightened up a little. ‘Well um… it very much depends on how you feel about it. Some people find it just too embarrassing, some find it sensual.’

Jenna’s eyes widened. ‘Sounds interesting whatever it is.’

Peter drew a breath and looked at her and she could tell he was trying hard not to look hopeful and influence her decision.

‘I want to paint you,’ he said in a rush, and Jenna softened.

‘That’s a lovely idea…’ she started.

‘Nude,’ he finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics to this version of the song Tibbie Dunbar by Robert Burns (last 2 verses by Jim McLean) are:
> 
> Chorus; O, wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar  
>  O, wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?  
>  Wilt thou ride on a horse, or be drawn in a car,  
>  Or walk by my side, sweet Tibbie Dunbar? 
> 
> I care na thy daddie, his lands and his money;  
>  I care na thy kin, sae high and sae lordly;  
>  But say that thou'lt hae me for better or waur,  
>  And come in thy coatie, sweet Tibbie Dunbar. 
> 
> Chorus 
> 
> I offer you nothing of silver or land,  
>  What man can determine the price of your hand  
>  But g'in your consent we'd be richer by far  
>  Oh walk by me side sweet Tibbie Dunbar 
> 
> Chorus 
> 
> Oh wilt thou become a poor beggars lady  
>  To sleep in the heather rolled up in my plaidie  
>  The sky for a roof and your candle a star  
>  And our love for your fire sweet Tibbie Dunbar.. 
> 
>  
> 
> The version of this song Peter sings is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fQSrmjKM1Ps by the Corries - a Scots duo who were pretty prevalent in the late 70s and early 80s when Peter would have been hanging around Glasgow. Its proper traditional Scots fare.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its Sunday afternoon and the clock is ticking... Jenna gets her portrait done

Jenna’s jaw dropped, ‘Nude?’ she asked. Peter looked awkward.

‘I have _seen_ you nude, Jenna,’

‘Yes but….I mean it’s one thing seeing someone nude, one thing being nude, but it’s another to have that nudity transferred to paper and hung on a wall.’

Peter chuckled. ‘I’m not going to exhibit it in the Tate Modern.’

Jenna mocked glared at him, ‘And why not?’

‘More to do with my lack of talent than your body,’ he reassured.

Jenna screwed up her mouth in contemplation.

‘What’s it for then?’

‘The experience mainly,’ Peter explained hoping intensely that it made sense to her, ‘To have someone paint you that way, their eyes on you, tracing the lines of your body. It can be very intense, very intimate.’

‘It all sounds a bit _Titanic_ to me,’ she looked distinctly amused by the whole thing. He felt a bit vulnerable.

‘Oh…’ Peter rolled his eyes his heart sinking a bit, ‘Yes thank you I’m trying to create something memorable and beautiful here.’

‘Sorry,’ she giggled, ‘But it is a bit Kate Winslet.’

Peter looked away and stood up. ‘Fine, OK it was just as idea,’ he said. It was surprising how much it hurt him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and berated himself. Jenna was a young modern woman, the thought of being painted on a chaise longue just amused her. It wasn’t sexy or sensual just a bit like that scene in that movie. There was a horrible awkward pause. He didn’t quite have the strength to make everything OK again, because it wasn’t, it really wasn’t and he was doing his best. He rubbed his forehead.

‘This is something you really want to do, isn’t it?’ she asked getting up off her chair. He could hear her approach him cautiously behind him.

‘If you aren’t up for it then there’s no point,’ he said struggling to keep his voice level. ‘Really, its fine, we’ll just think of something else to do. It was a long shot that you’d go for it. I suppose it is a bit odd. A bit old fashioned.’ He heard bitterness in his voice there and hated himself. Old, old, past it, out of touch. Of course she didn’t want to do this.

Jenna rubbed his back and tried to peer around him to catch his eye. He avoided it. ‘I just wasn’t expecting it,’ she said softening her tone, ‘I’m sorry. Tell me more about it, would you do it in here?’ she glanced round the cluttered study.

‘No, no I have a studio,’ he said miserably, ‘I get relegated there if I am painting or playing the guitar. Noise and paint fumes you see. Actually, I quite like it, the privacy. It’s a no go zone for family. Elaine couldn’t even tell you what’s in there.’

‘That sounds cool,’ Jenna admitted. ‘Are you sure you want me invading it? It’s your space.’

‘You’d be the subject of the painting, I need you there,’ he said realising he was beginning to sound a bit pathetic. I need you. I just need you. His mind chanted a new mantra.

‘And you’d have me, what? Drape myself over things, hold fruit bowls?’ she smiled but not unkindly.

He sighed. ‘Er… not quite,’ Peter said, ‘It has to be something that fits you as a person. No point having you pose like a classical Greek… you aren’t one.’

She snorted. ‘No,’ she agreed. ‘Look if you want to paint me nude, paint me nude. It might be fun. It might _lead_ to fun,’ she looked up at him and he felt a bit guilty for being prickly. He turned until she was in his arms.

‘I know its slightly off the beaten track but… but this is who I am Jenna,’ he paused trying to find the right words. ‘This sounds a bit wet but… I was an artist long before I was an actor and it’s how I deal with life. You’ve seen all the sketchpads…’

‘I certainly have,’ she confirmed.

‘Well it’s how I cope. I draw or if I am at home and have the time I paint, properly. If things are difficult, I paint. If I lose someone, I paint…. Do you see?’ He looked down into her eyes and saw the sadness creep into them.

‘I see,’ she said with a sense of sorrow, and then laughed shortly. ‘Why is it everything we do ends up hurting?’

‘Because everything we do has to end,’ he said with his arms around her. Jenna threaded her fingers through the spaces between his buttons and touched the skin below on his chest.

‘I know,’ she said and he watched her swallow down her tears to look up at him far too brightly. ‘Come on then, show me this studio.’

Peter led her down the garden in nothing but her robe, through the golden leaves which had fallen on the path and towards the little building at the end. He made a joke that it was bigger on the inside and watched her smile, the colours of the autumn afternoon perfect in the browns and chocolates of her hair and eyes. Her skin glowed. He memorised every tone and hue, for his painting and for posterity, before he let her into the studio.

She was quite taken with it, the couch, draped currently in a deep red throw, the dozens upon dozens of finished artworks stacked around the place, the piles of artists’ necessities; brushes, oils, acrylics. Piles of pastels, pencils, pens. Different papers, canvases. A sink in the corner. Everything he could and did need when he was out there.

He went to the window and adjusted the blinds, the light, made sure it fell in the direction he need over where he had bid her sit and then he began adjusting the easel, fixing the frame to it and changing the height slightly. Jenna watched intrigued.

‘I’ve only ever seen you do little paintings, or sketches,’ she said, ‘This one looks huge, how long will it take?’

‘Relax I’m not going to make you sit all the way through it,’ he said, ‘It’ll take weeks probably. No this is just to get the basics on paper…’

‘Won’t you need something to refer to?’ she said, curling up in the end of the couch and leaning her head in her hand. She had cast her robe to one side son that her skin pressed directly into the fluffy throw. ‘Like a photo, you could take a photo once we’re done, help you finish it.’

‘Hmm… maybe,’ he said distractedly, ‘But it’s sort of cheating. Da Vinci didn’t have a camera when he painted the _Mona Lisa_.’

‘Yeah and look how that turned out!’

He laughed despite himself, ‘Jenna that is sacrilege.’

‘Well its rubbish isn’t it?’

‘My lips are sealed.’

He could feel her eyes on him as he finished setting up.

‘So how will you get it finished?’ she asked after a bit.

Peter glanced across at her very deliberately, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll remember it,’ he said.

The significance of his words weren’t lost on her and he saw her tense, bit her lip and look upwards, battling the rush of tears that threatened to fall. Eventually she nodded, settled herself again. ‘You’d better,’ she said quietly.

Peter picked up the shade he was going to use to outline her figure and made an experimental mark on the pre-prepared canvas.

‘You ready, beautiful?’ he asked softly.

‘Go for it, immortalise me,’ she said bravely and he looked back across at her, at the way she was sitting in the corner, at the curves and lengths of her body and roughly measured. The dimensions were easy, but a painting like this was so much more than dimensions. It was her face he would have to try to get right. The distinctive things that made her, Jenna, the dimples and the shape of her lips. The length of her lashes and the sparkle in her eyes. He suddenly felt sure he would never get it right, that she was too unique and too perfect to transfer to canvas, no matter how much he wanted to immortalise this weekend.

He was glad of the easel to stand behind as he worked. For the tissues he kept next to his paints. He knew once she was gone he would spend weeks on this portrait, until it drove him mad and tore him inside out. It would never be good enough, never enough like her. The only thing that ever could be was sitting in front of him now, untouchable, after today.

He worked for an hour until the basic shape of Jenna’s figure and portrait was laid down on the canvas. He mixed some sample colours for her hair and eyes. Then he stepped back from the easel. Jenna startled on the couch where she had been deep in thought.

‘Sorry, miles away,’ she said.

‘That’s what usually happens to the model,’ he said joining her, ‘They drift off.’

‘I could feel you looking at me to begin with, like you were measuring me up,’ she laughed, ‘It was a bit weird, but then it sort of changed. Less measuring more… I don’t know appraising? Appreciating? Remembering?’

‘Yes,’ he said quietly.

‘And then you just vanished behind the easel,’ she laughed, ‘God knows what you were up to back there.’

He smiled elusively, hoping his face didn’t bear the markings of the last few minutes’ tears, and scooted closer to her. ‘Are you cold?’ he asked, ‘It’s not the warmest out here?’

‘I’m fine, honestly, let’s just sit here for a bit. I think the sun’s setting soon.’

Peter grabbed the deep red throw from the back of the couch and wrapped it round both their shoulders, not because of cold but because of a need to cocoon them somehow from the world. Sure enough the golds and oranges of the autumn sunset soon emerged through the windows.

‘I think I’ll use that lighting,’ he said, ‘It goes well with your colouring,’ he ran his fingers through her hair softly.

‘One night left,’ she said, ‘And then its morning. What time is Elaine back?’

‘About noon I think.’

‘So check out time will be what, ten to be safe?’ she asked. ‘Ok.’

‘Jenna….’

‘I refuse to be unhappy,’ she said suddenly, ‘I refuse to waste these last few hours crying or moping about. Let’s do something, let’s go out, or let’s stay in and play twister.’

‘What?’ he laughed.

‘I don’t know,’ she smiled, ‘But we have to do something that isn’t upsetting.’

‘Everything’s upsetting, at least that’s how it feels,’ he admitted, ‘I haven’t been this flakey… well.. ever. I can’t seem to stop.’

‘It’s because we’re trapped. It’s because there’s absolutely no way to make this work, to make it better, to have what we want. And maybe we just should never have done it in the first place but… but I think maybe that would be worse, don’t you?’

‘Better to have loved and lost…’ Peter said and she giggled.

‘Trust bloody Shakespeare,’ she sighed. ‘A catchy phrase for every heartbreak.’

The orange light was spilling across the floor of the studio now, announcing that if they sat there much longer darkness would fall completely. They watched it slowly inch and die, chased by twilight until the studio fell into gloom.

‘It’s over,’ Jenna said.

Neither of them moved.


	12. Chapter 12

Time moves in fits and starts, crawls when you least want it to, races by when you try desperately to hang onto a moment; then a moment becomes remembrance and you realise time has once again tricked you. Jenna woke in the guest room of Peter and Elaine’s home on Monday morning, to the growing dawn, and to the empty space beside her. Was it really just a few hours ago she had held him? Was it really just a day or two? Had it happened at all? The window of its occurrence seemed so small, like a dream. She couldn’t move, it would undo the memories.

Just stay still, listen to the traffic build outside, listen to the sound of him moving around the house. The shower running, a door closing. Listen to his tread on the stairs and the sound of the kettle. The last moments before reality returns. Jenna closed her eyes. Think of last night.

Think of the walk they shared up the path in the garden, the leaves underfoot and the breeze soft and cool against her skin. Think of them stopping to kiss under the dark sky, under the stars. Was the moon out? She didn’t think so, it hid like they did, from the world, guilty but beautiful. Think of the steps they climbed to this room, hand in hand, the feel of his clothes under her fingers as she removed them. The taste of his kisses, becoming deeper, more desperate. The clock ticking. Do this now, do this now or never. This was the last time, this was all the time they had, between sunset and sunrise. Tomorrow reality reset. Tomorrow the game was over.

The game. It was just a game. It was never supposed to go this far, or trigger something deep within them both. It was never meant to hurt. It had given so much pleasure and now it ripped from them prematurely. They weren’t done, they weren’t finished. But it was over.

Lying on the half empty bed, eyes shut, tears bleeding. Listening to the door open, listening to his footstep. Feeling the mattress dip beside her and the touch of his hand.

‘Jenna,’ he said, ‘It’s time.’

She opened her eyes, looked up at the bulbs and the light and the ceiling above her; remembered where the weekend had started and how fast it had flown. The things they had done. The things she had felt.

‘Time to get up,’ Peter said, and at last she turned her head to see him, relocated herself in the present. He looked tired, like he had lain awake half the night and he probably had. This was no easier for him.

‘Ok,’ she tried a smile, ‘Ok I’m moving.’

He held her eye and squeezed her hand. ‘Come on sweetheart, chin up.’ She nodded at his instruction, watched as he kissed her knuckles. ‘I’ll make some coffee.’

‘Do we have…?’ she started quickly.

‘We have time,’ he said calmly.

‘There’s never enough time,’ she said and slipped from the covers.

In the kitchen everything was just so. The coffee laid out on the table with everything she could possibly need. Milk, sugar, cream, biscuits, breakfast foods. Things leftover from their weekend. Elsewhere things had been clean and dried and put away. Evidence of other meals, meals for two, and coats, hanging over chairs, disposed of in a hurry, all tidied, all put away. No evidence.

It was like she hadn’t been there at all. The thing was Elaine would know she had, she’d OK’d it, so really she wouldn’t mind a stray dish or glass, but it was clear that Peter felt the need to clear the decks, to hide his shameful secret. Not that she existed, not that she had been there, but that he loved her.

Please let there be no evidence I loved her.

The flowers were gone from all over the house.

Jenna sat and had her coffee poured for her, watched a slight tremble in his hand as he added milk. He sat staring into his mug for a moment, all fatigue and stubble and sadness. This was never supposed to end like this. She wasn’t sure how it was supposed to end, how else it could have. Fools, both of them, all of them. Finally, she couldn’t stand another moment.

‘Peter?’ she asked and he looked up straight away, a hopeful look. Did you think of an answer? Is there a way? ‘What do we do now?’ she asked and watched his face fall minutely.

‘I don’t think there’s anything we can do,’ he said. ‘It was supposed to be a one off weekend. A bit of fun sanctioned by my remarkable wife. Something to show you how good things can be,’ he laughed, ‘Was it good?’ he asked, ‘because I feel like shit.’

‘It was good,’ Jenna said, ‘You only feel like that because…’ she stopped herself. She wanted to say ‘because it’s over.’ But of course it was over, he had a wife, there was no choice in the matter.

‘So did we tick the boxes?’ he asked.

‘Do you mean did I see what was possible with someone I love? Yes,’ she said.

He nodded sadly.

‘I just didn’t mean to actually fall in love,’ she went on quietly.

‘Neither did I,’ he echoed.

‘We’re never going to be able to do this again are we?’

‘No,’ he said.

Jenna nodded to herself.

‘If we did,’ he said, ‘I’d never be able to tear myself away. I can barely do it now it’s so painful.’

She kept her eyes on her coffee, tried to drink some but her throat would hardly work.

‘Jenna, I love my wife,’ he was saying, ‘That’s why this can’t carry on, it can’t become something else, something longer or more permanent. We can’t see each other in hotels on weekends or sneak around behind the scenes. You are worth more than that, much more more. That’s what this weekend was all about… showing you what you’re worth.’

‘It sort of backfired,’ Jenna said, ‘The only man I think is worthy of me is married to someone else and so faithful he would never hurt them. It’s one of the main reasons he’s worthy, his loyalty, his unwavering devotion.’

Peter laughed at the irony. ‘I know, ah, how that smarts.’

Jenna shook her head. Sipped again and managed to get it over this time. Her fingers felt weak and she needed both hands to hold the mug.

‘Check out at ten,’ she said checking the clock. She watched him nod sadly. ‘How do we spend that last hour?’

Something in him gave way. ‘Oh God this is unbearable,’ he said rubbing his hands over his face. ‘This is so much worse than I ever thought it would be. How could I ever think I could do this and then just let go. What an idiot. The way I’ve felt about you…. For so long Jenna. I should have said no to this; it would have saved us both the pain.’

She took his hand across the table, ‘I’m glad it happened. Really I’m glad,’ he looked up at her in need of reassurance. ‘I could have spent the rest of my life wondering,’ she went on, ‘If you felt the same, what it would be like. This weekend has at least given me that glimpse.’

‘A glimpse isn’t enough.’

‘It has to be,’ Jenna said. ‘Peter you…’ she took a breath to fortify herself, ‘You are not available to me and you never will be. But what you’ve done, what you’ve shown me this weekend, its important. Its taught me what’s possible, what love should be like, how I should feel. I’m never going to settle for less, I’m never going to lose respect for myself again. You’ve done that.’

She smiled in encouragement with difficulty and squeezed his hand. Inside her heart felt like it was gradually ripping apart, that its torn edges were turning to stone. She would never be the same.

‘Oh Jenna,’ he sighed, ‘I wish I could do more…’

‘Some things aren’t meant to be.’

‘True and maybe now, now we’ve got Richard out the picture, the person you are supposed to be with will find you,’ he commented.

‘I doubt that,’ she said sadly, ‘he’s sitting right here.’

Peter looked up at her sharply and she struggled to give him a weak smile. She shrugged, ‘Right now I don’t know if I am ever getting past you,’ she admitted, ‘Everyone would advise that of course I will, but right now… right now… I just feel like dying.’

Her voice broke on the final words and he was up in a flash, pulling her into his arms and holding her tight against him. He sobbed as he rubbed her back and pressed kisses to her hair.

‘I’m sorry Jenna, I’m so sorry….’

 

Time moves in fits and starts. An hour can last a day or a minute. You cling to it as hard as you can and it still slips through your fingers. The final seconds, the ticking of the lock, and time has betrayed you again. Your heart can hurt so badly you don’t know how it keeps beating, sometimes it feels like stone and other times like silk, ripped and torn and soaked in blood. Yet everything is normal. The breeze blows on outside and the sun dapples the lawn. Leaves fall. Time moves. The kitchen smells of coffee and the taste lingers on your tongue. And soon you’ll be leaving.

Why does everything seem so normal?

They crossed paths in the end, Jenna didn’t have the strength to just leave without Elaine’s arrival. They bumped into each other in the hall and Jenna watched Peter’s face grow pale. Not embarrassed like he usually was, not blushing for being caught, but pale, with fear, with grief. He kissed his wife hello and stood back as she spoke with Jenna. Knowing eyes, her usual mischievous expression altered. Two of Britain’s best actors standing in her hallway, failing to deceive her, but she also knew they didn’t need to, because it stopped now. She would stop it. She had started it after all.

When Elaine embraced her Jenna almost yelped in surprise.

‘Thanks,’ she said awkwardly.

‘So tell me,’ Elaine said, keeping up the pretence of nonchalance, inscrutable, ‘What did you learn this weekend?’

‘Oh too much to say,’ Jenna bluffed, ‘But Richard? He’s out of the picture for good. There are men out there who treat you better, who know what love means. I’ve learned that. I’ve learned my lessons there.’

‘Yes, there are, I’m glad you’ve come to realise, you have to wait for one of them Jenna, one of the good ones,’ again she smiled, kindly enough, but Jenna’s guilt was growing. She had stolen from this woman without meaning to and she felt sick and wrong. She saw Elaine glance again at Peter, his face pinched as he leaned against the wall, and she knew, that she knew, and she should leave. Now. There would be no further comment made by Elaine, no bitterness, but nor would she be invited back.

‘Look after yourself,’ Elaine said to her, ‘In the future. The world can be very cruel.’

Elaine gave her another smile and disappeared down the hall with her bags leaving Jenna and Peter alone. This was the time she gave them. This was goodbye; say your goodbyes, make them final.

They stood and looked at one another and ran out of words. Almost.

‘Jenna…’ he started.

‘I love you,’ she said quickly, ‘I love you, but even if you feel the same, we don’t have a future. Those are the facts, that’s as far as it goes. I walk out of here today and I never come back.’

‘We were friends before this…’

‘No,’ she said clearly, taking every ounce of her strength, ‘We can’t be friends again, we just can’t. Even if we resisted one another it’s not fair on Elaine. Look at her, she knows, she senses it. She sent us on this thing and now it’s gone too far. If we keep seeing each other… she’ll never trust either of us again. She’ll never trust you.’

He hung his head and reached to hold both her hands.

‘I know,’ he said, ‘I just wanted to say something, so you knew I cared, so you knew I wasn’t giving up lightly. But you and I, Jenna, we can’t, any of it, just as you say.’ He stopped and looked at her, ‘Even if I love you, it makes no difference, it has to be over.’

Jenna nodded bravely. ‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘I know.’ She reached up to embrace him one last time and heard his voice at her ear, his breath warm.

‘I feel like I’m dying too,’ he whispered, ‘I’m scared I always will.’


	13. Epilogue

He had never really believed it would all come to an end but the role was over, someone else was Doctor Who and he was just Peter, fitting his front door key into the lock and arriving home after the last scenes were shot. He heard Elaine’s voice greeting him and dumped his things in the hall, wandered slowly to the living room. His knees hurt again and his back ached and maybe he had been right to go when he had but he was already missing it. Sixty was old enough though, right? Time to let a younger guy in.

He placated his anxious wife and explained he was fine. That the dark circles would recover once he slept, that he promised to eat more. He kissed her absently on the cheek and disappeared to the kitchen. It was hard he said, leaving it all behind, he needed some time. To think, to reflect, to grieve for those years and all they contained. She knew immediately what he meant; he could see it in her eyes, the tiny flash of jealousy that never fully left her even though he had never again crossed the line.

He stood in the kitchen and looked out of the window, at the breeze in the trees and the bats flitting around the garden. He made tea. His mind wandered. He felt alone and he felt cold and he didn’t know where to go next. On the table he found a newspaper from last weekend and flicked through it aimlessly, then pulled out the coloured supplement and paused.

Peter took out his glasses and slid them up his nose, squinted to get a better view of the magazine and the woman on the cover. She looked just the same, just as beautiful, just as young, and the supplement advertised an interview and photoshoot to get to know the real Jenna. The real Jenna he thought with irony, she knew how to keep these journalists at a healthy distance, they would find out little of importance from her.

He opened the pages and read about her choice in fashion, her dream roles, her mandatory brief mention of _Doctor Who_ and of him. Yes, they’d been great friends, yes of course she was still in touch now and then. It was a lie, but one he would allow her. It would raise too many queries otherwise. The interviewer pressed harder and asked why she was so resolutely single since her split from Richard. Jenna had given a light hearted answer and said something about work. The interviewer had suspected she was covering a truth but what it was they couldn’t tell. It added to her mystery though, maybe one day she’d meet the right man.

Maybe she already had and it was too late.

Peter stood and made his way to the back door suddenly in desperate need of air. He stepped out into the clear dark night and stood against the back wall of the house inhaling deeply. It was two years since he had seen her, since she had been right here, and it never hurt less. He had things he could do, to distract himself, but tonight he guessed that none of that would work so instead he wound his way down the path to his studio and pushed open the door.

The lights came on overhead and he sat on the couch they had shared. The little room had barely changed in all that time, just different stocks of paint and canvas. His artworks still stacked against walls, his electric guitar plugged into an amp, while his acoustic was still allowed in his study. The one difference an old friend might notice was the portrait on the wall, finished at last and hanging where no prying eyes would see.

For him only, curled on the couch he sat on now, her dark hair glossy with youth and health, her large eyes focused on him. He loved her just the same. He felt like dying. It would never stop.

It would never stop.


End file.
